Love Story
Leaves crisp where they’ve fallen, grass growing through. Winter’s a love story. We are too. . [ 1643 ]
Tag Archive for ‘Love’
Invisible Guest
Remember, act towards one another as if you’re in the company of an invisible guest — someone kind, gentle, unselfish, dearly loved, the better angel of your nature. . [ 1635 ]
How Can We Know?
The word silence isn’t silence, just as love and peace aren’t love and peace. Writing them and saying them is a little like hoping the train will come. The train might arrive. It might not. No hope can bind it. What is silence? What are love and peace? How can we know, unless we surrender ourselves? How can we know, unless we are the living embodiment of each? . [ […]
What Love Has Done
Mist rises from an icy pond — each the other — a water wheel. What is illness but a place I visit when I believe that I’m alone? I’m healed in the present — yes, that’s what love has done. . [ 1613 ]
Awakening
Not, What’s in it for me? but, How can I help? says the rain to the earth. . [ 1594 ]
Just As If
The tie you never wore, The pants too tight, too loose, Too long, too short to fit, And all the rest of it. Hello, madam. Good day, sir. My hat is off, my head is soft, My heart is just a blur. But I love you — yes, I love you, Just as if I were there And you were here. . [ 1588 ]
Love Story
Cradle the cup, and when you bring it to your lips, this is your first kiss. . [ 1587 ]
Star Light, Star Bright
A picture of a mountain isn’t a mountain. So with a river, a flower, and those we hate and love. Memory, too, is a kind of picture, as are words. The word mountain isn’t a mountain. But to show each other our pictures, we climb mountains and mountains of words. The memory of something that happened isn’t the happening. Maybe that’s one reason we keep fighting wars. Genocide in books […]
Intimate Arts
Of all the arts, love and friendship are the most intimate, because each person creates the other, and the experience leaves both transformed. . [ 1572 ]
Differently
When someone near remembers what you remember differently ripens the fruit ends the year billows the sail brings the old ship home . [ 1569 ]
William Michaelian 