Reflections on a Sunday morning...

for that brief moment
when the fire-fly went out…
the lonely darkness

Just a few thoughts...

Entry Notes To Self...I posted this poem on g+ recently and it received only moderate attention. Don't know why? Is quiet good. Trying to find the author. The picture I have had in my album for quiet some time . Just waiting for the right words...sound thoughts...enjoy!

P.s. David Whalen is the author...sent to me by a dear friend...thank you!


With every note of a finger still ringing in your ears,
Every rifle, spinning, suspended in your mind,
Every crack of a drum still beating through your veins,
You know it's all over.
You know this moment will never happen again.
You know the magic in...The moment the music stopped.

When the music stops, the dance is done
So listen and dance with all your heart and mind
Always dance as if… it would be your last one
Live life to the fullest, let the dance and the music unwind

When the magic is gone, it's gone forever
So leave room for mystery, in your life every day
Leave a bit of the unknown, in your every endeavour
For when the magic is gone, it's gone to stay

For when the music stops
And when the magic is gone
You can smile and look back
At a life that's well done

For when the music once stops
You dance again never
And when the magic is gone
Sure…It's gone forever

The Art of Living Series...

“It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them. So throw away your baggage and go forward. There are quicksands all about you, sucking at your feet, trying to suck you down into fear and self-pity and despair. That’s why you must walk so lightly. Lightly my darling...”

Aldous Huxley - Island

Stopped To Ponder...

Can you say tonight in parting with the day that’s slipping fast,
That you helped a single person of the many that you passed?
Is a single heart rejoicing over what you did or said?
Does one whose hopes were fading now with courage look ahead?

Reflections From The Past...

                                   The forge class, Children’s Aid School, New York - 1911.

Stopped To Ponder...

"When my hope is all they had."

The Art of Living Series

"I need to write, to express myself through written language not only so that others might hear me but so that I can hear myself.” 
―

A funny thing happened on the way to therapy...

"Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better."
- Samuel Beckett

From The Study...a conversation of possibility

“Not every story has a happy ending, ... but the discoveries of science, the teachings of the heart, and the revelations of the soul all assure us that no human being is ever beyond redemption. The possibility of renewal exists so long as life exists. How to support that possibility in others and in ourselves is the ultimate question.” 

From The Study...a conversation of possibility

“...if you are not like everybody else, then you are abnormal, if you are abnormal , then you are sick. These three categories, not being like everybody else, not being normal and being sick are in fact very different but have been reduced to the same thing” 
― Michel Foucault

Reflections from the world

Look into the water calm
peering over its edge
into the dark and quiet place
to see the reflection of
one's face

Many thoughts can be seen
among the waters ripples
that have been made
or is it the calm serene
that one can look and
see one's life history

Is there joy and happiness
that this brings or does
one see such sorrow and pain

Does one share a simple smile
or it is a tear or pain that
reflects up into the sunshine

Only one can see what
is shown in the mirror of
water you see, it's their
own reflection that they see
to show them what life
has been made for thee.

Lessons From The Sane Asylum

“What strikes me is the fact that in our society, art has become something which is related only to objects and not to individuals, or to life. That art is something which is specialized or which is done by experts who are artists. But couldn't everyone's life become a work of art? Why should the lamp or the house be an art object, but not our life?”
― Michel Faucault

The Art of Living Series

Is anybody happier because you passed this way?
Will anyone remember that you spoke to them today?
When day is almost over, and its’ toiling time is through.
Will there be anyone to utter now a kindly word of you?

Stopped To Ponder

"To pretend, I actually do the thing: I have therefore only pretended to pretend."
Jacques Derrida