There are too many waterfalls here; the crowded streams
hurry too rapidly down to the sea,
and the pressure of so many clouds on the mountaintops
makes them spill over the sides in soft slow-motion,
turning to waterfalls under our very eyes.
- For if those streaks, those mile-long, shiny, tearstains,
aren't waterfalls yet,
in a quick age or so, as ages go here,
they probably will be.
But if the streams and clouds keep travelling, travelling,
......
1
I am a house, says Senlin, locked and darkened,
Sealed from the sun with wall and door and blind.
Summon me loudly, and you'll hear slow footsteps
Ring far and faint in the galleries of my mind.
You'll hear soft steps on an old and dusty stairway;
Peer darkly through some corner of a pane,
You'll see me with a faint light coming slowly,
Pausing above some gallery of the brain . . .
......
Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the angels'
hierarchies? and even if one of them suddenly
pressed me against his heart, I would perish
in the embrace of his stronger existence.
For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror
which we are barely able to endure and are awed
because it serenely disdains to annihilate us.
Each single angel is terrifying.
And so I force myself, swallow and hold back
the surging call of my dark sobbing.
......
Either peace or happiness,
let it enfold you
when I was a young man
I felt these things were
dumb, unsophisticated.
I had bad blood, a twisted
mind, a precarious
upbringing.
......
Come into the garden, Maud,
For the black bat, Night, has flown,
Come into the garden, Maud,
I am here at the gate alone;
And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad,
And the musk of the roses blown.
For a breeze of morning moves,
And the planet of Love is on high,
Beginning to faint in the light that she loves
......
One of the best things of Sanatan Dharma is that,
It values– art, poetry, music & dance.
These are also the different ways
To connect with the Supreme Power, God.
Hindu philosophy gives you freedom to think,
Freedom to mix with nature
And to the whole universe as well.
According to Hinduism
Every soul is connected with Brahman.
......
Chants,
voluble. Tremors from footholes of mountains
and green places . . .
From spurts of melodies they come,
chants of our land
chants of our masters
and chants of ceremony
Virgin tempo,
......
Give me but some music
- in heavens empty hours -
a piece of song, giddy-paced
and innocence for innocence
I’m a horse that never tires
While a cup of wine
makes light airs
and merry hearts
......
Sharla Rhodes' father was a minister, like answering God's calling.
Her happiest memories were of Sundays, like silken petals, falling.
Her mother was proud of them! They all attended church regularly.
Sharla, brother Otis, and sister Sage, romped 'neath skies of honey.
Loving holy scriptures and Jesus, when birds sang in maroon garb,
Dad was choirmaster and wrote hymns. Like red cardinal's remark.
Night fairies had flown by morning, when the tangelo sun arose;
......
From Maastricht's heart he lifted his bow,
turning cobblestones into a ballroom floor,
Viennese echoes wrapped in modern joy,
smiles traveling faster than the music itself,
a conductor inviting the world to dance.
With orchestra and open arms he stood,
making classical sound warm and near,
bringing elegance to crowded squares,
letting waltzes breathe with laughter and light,
......