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Posts from the ‘poetry’ Category

The soothing Sunday thoughts: peace, love and joy

I hope we are all at peace with each other

Since we are still sharing the candlelight

And a hug, a kiss and I love you

Whether you have just one slice

Of bread and a glass of wine

Whether you are in a castle

And you would never know

How much suffering is out there

I hope we are all at peace with the world

The fighter, the lover and the loser

The dreamer, the angry and the doubtful

The smart, the holy and the simple

I hope we are all at peace with our heartaches

Since we can still send our love

To those who are desperate, hungry and forgotten

I hope you can see some snowflakes

Dancing down and falling from the sky

The promise, the hope and the wisdom

Of someone who we all know

I hope you can see how snowflakes

Cover the graves, the streets and the cities

So that we all could have peace and joy

Like white, untouched and pure snow

At least in our thoughts

And the soft warmth of this calming candlelight

For I hope we are all at peace with ourselves and others tonight

Merry Christmas! Peace, love and joy to every home and family! Happy holidays blogging friends!

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Life

Life isn’t what we think about it

Life is all the things what it does to us.

We are never in the same place. Ever.

As we stroll through the sky which is actually alive

With the speed that is not approachable even in sleep, even in dream

We do not know what is going to happen the next minute.

How would we know about the next year?

This is an endless flight which might end abruptly at the destiny’s door.

Between grasps of air some face reminds you that there actually was something.

Long ago. Far away.

Was that you setting up the alarm which never went off?

And so, we are flying without the warning system.

Without suggestions. Without instructions.

This flight has no stops.

We literally circle the sky until somebody gets moody or tired.

That’s when the next flood or ice age starts.

It would be unfair to just circle in the sky without ever learning anything.

So, what’s the lesson my dear?

Life isn’t what we think about it

Life is all the things what it does to us.

life

After extremely tough weeks of all kinds of health concerns and issues, after some sleepless nights and a very disturbing feeling of hopelessness, I am returning with a summary of thoughts about things which did not want to leave me alone.

I would love you to also stop at the art website: https://inesepogagallery.com/2017/12/10/shop-heartwarming-unique-nature-art/

I started an initiative to raise some money, but it got interrupted by different matters, including the lack of internet when construction workers cut off our cable. I’m not thrilled knowing that the next year might start off on the wrong foot with some delayed treatment. I haven’t had any chance to really try or sell anything this year, so, hopefully, you can help spread the word. I do appreciate any purchase of any creation on the art website.

Absence of shadows

We are shocked so frequently with extremely bad news.

We cannot be in a steady state of sorrow and grief.

I am focusing on the good things that surround me. These are mainly colors and the sunny backyard.

I used to cry for everything and I was crying a lot even reading books and watching movies. It seems I am in a place now where there are no long shadows.

It is much more peaceful since the entrance gate is locked. It’s not that I have built a wall around me, but I am carefully   selecting the things that get in.

When we allow strange forces and energies to take over, it can be very difficult to get back to oneself. Almost impossible since we are scattered all around like falling leaves.

I have to immerse myself in colors. The stunningly dark red and the blindingly bright yellow.

This is so refreshing.

I let my thoughts go.

I skip the sad pages and get back to colors.

It will be never so that everybody will smile and breathe easily. There is day and night. Light and darkness.

We are energy. We can be pure and clean energy and we can damage us allowing too many dark shadows cover up the light.

So, this is today.

I hope it is a good tomorrow.

I have no idea how the weather will be after that.

I am walking around live colors. I am inhaling them and they become a taste, too. What a relief! Meditation. Simply: I let the time disappear.

For it’s going to be a good tomorrow.

Beautiful picture gallery displaying fall nature, enjoy!

The red

 

The orange-red

The pink

The nicely pink

The yellow

The deeply red

Christmas fairy tale: Going home

Going home for Christmas

The lonely walker feels that home shouldn’t be far anymore. A full moon just like 2000 years ago has scattered silver and snow diamonds all over the frozen trees and along the path. The lonely walker does not feel tiredness or exhaustion. The warm flavor of freshly baked bread and pies will be mixing together with the adorable scent of Christmas tree, and that is a dream to come true for somebody who hasn’t had eaten home-cooked meal for quite a while. He has a small gift for everybody, it wasn’t much he could buy, but he is full of hope that the gift of love should be enough for everyone.

Shadows stretch across the road and fade away in the distance. The sky is covered with black velvet and large stars appear on it like golden distant sparkles from eternity. Hardly any wind disturbs the frozen landscape, it is the silent night and everybody who has a home is trying to be there by now.

Candles are everywhere and their flames whisper: it is so peaceful and magic, and the shine in our eyes, the sparkles in the tree, the shimmering of stars in the sky confirm: there is no other miracle possible and needed. Lights are in every window, on any porch and the sounds of Christmas songs are flattering in the crisp air.

The lonely walker rushes his steps, although, the snow is deep and it can be quite tricky to get over some snowdrifts. He isn’t angry about the small obstacles on his way home. He knows he is getting closer and closer with every step, and the roof top should become visible just behind the next bend. A dog is barking somewhere from the darkness, some metal gate opens and closes, sounds vibrate far away and make one long even more for being in the safety and calm of his own home.

Just along the old apple trees, just five steps up onto the porch, and the door opens. For a moment he is blinded by all the warm and bright coziness of the inside, and it smells ever so good in here! Hugs follow hugs, and there is nothing like returning home for a lonely walker through the night.

Yet, one from the distance is watching these smiles and kisses and listening to laughs, and he is aware they don’t know how carefully and softly he is holding their every move in his welcoming and forgiving hand. The one who shines the light through the deepest night.

 

Going home for Christmas

The soothing Sunday Thoughts: I saw this morning

autumn-leaves-2

I saw this morning

How cautiously a leaf was swirling

Down to the ground.

And hesitantly,

And as if wanting to make this moment

An endless dance.

The tree had let it go,

To fly, to shine and die.

Small, tiny star, made up of purest gold,

With sunshine in its veins

And rain in every cell.

It had accomplished

Its mission.

Good bye is in the air,

And wisp of smoke from fire,

From burning leaves.

It raises straight to heaven,

To reach the clouds.

The wisp of smoke from tiny burning star.

autumn-leaves-3

P. S. We have been awarded with a fantastic, sunny weather. It is so warm, and the air is full of fall flavors. The sun is just dancing in reflections and leaves. The beauty of this season is breathtaking and sad at the same time: this is the feast before the long silence and sleep, yet, there is no way to describe the passionate intensity of leaves. My artistic nature enjoys every shade of these colors, every shape of disappearing beauty, and these days have been so uplifting, cheerful and inspiring.

autumn-leaves-1

I wish everybody a pleasant walk into the fall!

autumn-leaves-4

The soothing Sunday thoughts: castles of sand

castlesofsand-1

I know they won’t be able to withstand the big waves and the stormy winds. I keep building them regardless. Lots and lots of marvelously shaped wonders made out of zillion sand crystals. Castles of pure sand.

I know very clearly, and it is so obvious that such buildings are for a moment and they won’t last. They never do. Why to bother? Why to put in so much time in something evanescent that only passes away in the moment it is created and is unable to survive? Did I think this would be an exception? Did I believe that our dreams can magically turn sand into gold? Steel? Glass? Concrete? Wood? I must have been really silly believing in the magic of imagination. I must have lost the thin line between daydreaming and reality.

I build them all day. Long rows of beautiful and tall sand castles. I get up in the morning; pack up my pain and depression so they can enviously stare at my creations. When the weather is smooth like a silk scarf and the sun just sends down the first beams to explore the coastline, I am ready to get to my never-ending work: I am focused, determined and extremely self-conscious. I don’t need any plans, I don’t care about schedules. I always hope this day is going to be better than the previous one. In fact, it never is. My castles are fine. Materials and place are wrong. If it only was some other place. If I only had something stronger for my castles. So the night sets in, waves rise and they level down my creations. When I look at the same place next morning, all I can see is an empty sandy coast. No sign of anything from the day before.

Well, it has come to the point when I have to make a decision. I have two bad choices to consider. Doing nothing is not a good choice and doing something might worsen the current situation. It is as if I am standing at the crossroads and neither one of four roads promises to end in a good destination. Or do they? There might be something hidden behind the hills, there might be a good news waiting. Meanwhile, the days have been quiet and fairly empty. Foggy, meaningless and painful. The only thing to hold on has been castles built of sand. Fragile, unsafe and only for a short moment standing. They cannot become a shelter. They cannot save anybody from the storm. Why to bother? Why?

I would say there is always still hope even with a hopeless intention and an impossible purpose.

castles-of-sand-2

The soothing Sunday thoughts: This warm August night

August garden 1

I would love to take this warm August night

that stretches like a soft fog over the garden

and preserve it as a green fragrant scarf

for the cold winter nights.

I would love to take this warm August night

when everything is still so good and we all are alive,

I would weave my dreamy thoughts like threads into this scarf

for all these days when nothing is in the color of sun,

for days when I am lost and floating in an unfriendly universe,

for days that happen to show up from nowhere

when something persistently nags my subconscious mind:

our life has so many broken dreams and forgotten promises.

I would love to take this warm August night

and fold it neatly as a green fragrant scarf

and put it away,

put it away so far that I hardly can find it,

so far that when I find it I can recall this warm August night

and believe our bad days disappear with the fading darkness of night

and this scarf feels again like a warm fog around my shoulders

to prevent from death and frost.

August night

The soothing Sunday thoughts: I refuse to go with the flow

To sit in the backyard and watch everything growing,

To see how blooms come up and how tomatoes get red.

Do you have time for that?

I refuse to be caught up in the trap of the endless rushing.

I simply refuse to burn out myself chasing a mystery.

Must haves and must dos, must sees and must becomes:

It’s a lost competition for me.

Growing 4

I have to be part of the growing:

To watch children growing,

To see the garden growing,

To witness myself growing old and then older.

And growing becomes a part of me.

Growing 2

The greens of the backyard: are they ever soothing!

Plants have no growing concerns and no fear from their fate.

The greens: such a miraculous, endlessly calming quietness!

This must be the secret of growing:

At our own pace, at our own terms.

At the end, we all become ancient cities:

Lost somewhere deep under happily growing greens.

Somebody will be watching this growing.

Who knows whether they realize

How many hidden treasures are underneath?

Growing 3

The soothing Sunday thoughts: what does he see?

Look at the old man,

He is so peacefully sitting under the apple tree.

What does he see?

Rivers rushing away like years,

Somebody’s face who he kissed

Under the blossoming apple tree?

What does he see?

Was that a glimpse in eternity?

No more urges, no regrets and discoveries.

It is all gone, but he finally has no need

To rush, to chase, to speed.

What does he see?

Nobody runs away from the death,

Nobody gets away with his sins.

He has now time and he just dreams it away

Under the blossoming apple tree.

What does he see?

It feels like he has the answer,

It feels he has got the entire eternity.

Eternity 1

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