“We are part of nature. We are here to bloom like a flower-
to ornate the earth with beauty, love, joy, happiness, and care.” ― Debasish Mridha
love
All posts tagged love
“I think… that love encompasses the experience of the possible transition from the pure randomness of chance to a state that has universal value. Starting out from something that is simply an encounter, a trifle, you learn that you can experience the world on the basis of difference and not only in terms of identity. And you can even be tested and suffer in the process. In today’s world, it is generally thought that individuals only pursue their own self-interest. Love is an antidote to that. Provided it isn’t conceived only as an exchange of mutual favours, or isn’t calculated way in advance as a profitable investment, love really is a unique trust placed in chance. It takes us into key areas of the experience of what is difference and, essentially, leads to the idea that you can experience the world from the perspective of difference. In this respect it has universal implications: it is an individual experience of potential universality, and is thus central to philosophy, as Plato was the first to intuit.” ― Alain Badiou
Love the animals, love the plants, love everything.
If you love everything, you will perceive the divine mystery in things.
Once you perceive it, you will begin to comprehend it better everyday.
And you will come to love the whole world with an all-embracing love.
— Fyodor Dostoyevsky
Hoarding
by Marina Gipps
Tomorrow I clean my room.
Ripped up papers-
A river someday where I might unearth
A new love, rediscovering a new poem.
A thought that abandoned me so long ago.
The folds and layers of this mess, my own undoing.
Thinking back to when I had less which was more.
Wanting less argument with myself.
The merits of nothing invisible to the naked eye.
My only mansion is a soul where fitful sleep awaits.
Oddly technicolor this dream of a wishful poverty.
Where the cupboards are bare. The porridge, long gone.
A perfect space where love finds me. Here.
Autumn Dreams
Mortimer Crane Brown
“I know the year is dying,
Soon the summer will be dead.
I can trace it in the flying
Of the black crows overhead;
I can hear it in the rustle
Of the dead leaves as I pass,
And the south wind’s plaintive sighing
Through the dry and withered grass.
Ah, ’tis then I love to wander,
Wander idly and alone,
Listening to the solemn music
Of sweet nature’s undertone;
Wrapt in thoughts I cannot utter,
Dreams my tongue cannot express,
Dreams that match the autumn’s sadness
In their longing tenderness.”
The Peace of Wild Things
Wendell Berry
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound,
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water,
and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water,
and I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
The Ghost
Sara Teasdale
I went back to the clanging city,
I went back where my old loves stayed,
But my heart was full of my new love’s glory,
My eyes were laughing and unafraid.
I met one who had loved me madly
And told his love for all to hear —
But we talked of a thousand things together,
The past was buried too deep to fear.
I met the other, whose love was given
With never a kiss and scarcely a word —
Oh, it was then the terror took me
Of words unuttered that breathed and stirred.
Oh, love that lives its life with laughter
Or love that lives its life with tears
Can die — but love that is never spoken
Goes like a ghost through the winding years.
.
.
.
I went back to the clanging city,
I went back where my old loves stayed,
My heart was full of my new love’s glory, —
But my eyes were suddenly afraid.
If I Could Tell You
W H Auden
Time will say nothing but I told you so
Time only knows the price we have to pay;
If I could tell you I would let you know.
If we should weep when clowns put on their show,
If we should stumble when musicians play,
Time will say nothing but I told you so.
There are no fortunes to be told, although,
Because I love you more than I can say,
If I could tell you I would let you know.
The winds must come from somewhere when they blow,
There must be reason why the leaves decay;
Time will say nothing but I told you so.
Perhaps the roses really want to grow,
The vision seriously intends to stay;
If I could tell you I would let you know.
Suppose the lions all get up and go,
And the brooks and soldiers run away;
Will Time say nothing but I told you so?
If I could tell you I would let you know.
The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock ― T.S. Eliot
“I grow old … I grow old …
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.
Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
I do not think that they will sing to me.
I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.”
❤
“If I say your voice is an amber waterfall in which I yearn to burn each day,
if you eat my mouth like a mystical rose with powers of healing and damnation,
If I confess that your body is the only civilization I long to experience…
would it mean that we are close to knowing something about love?”
― Aberjhani, Visions of a Skylark Dressed in Black
Maverick Mist 