suntannedapples: January 2019

Wednesday, January 30, 2019

Jan 17, 2019

Constant change has a body, shape and a figure,
an instant's imprint
that holds on in the stream
to the rock of memory
like an indelible print.
I have no quarrel with time;
I have no quarrel with change;
it's all in the nature of things.
But so it is with the memory I own, my very own thing in the midst
of all that changes constantly.
Memory modulates, moves, resonates to the spirit of change.
Memory too is a flow;
changing, holding, pausing midstream,
flashing before the mind's eye
the glimpses of time;
and time stands bewildered
in the vice-like grip of memory.

Thanks for the image +MMurat Murat

Originally shared by MMurat Murat

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Saturday, January 26, 2019

My Friends

Jul 18, 2018

A Poem For Tanya

There in your window
the sun has pulled off the glue
and the thin shreds of wallpaper
are merrily dancing in the wind.
The window, finely dressed,
the dainty lace of the curtain veil
is a sign of the olden times.
A traditional blue windshield
serves to restrain the gaudiness of the light on the days of summer heat.
There is light and warmth just enough
to put you back in the track.
A vase holds roses for the first bird
that will sing in the bluesome summer sky.
This is your place; this is my place;
this is the place for all who seek
a retreat where we will not hide in shadows;
this is the place that will heal;
and before the nightfall we'll have accomplished
all that we were striving for in the day.

With love to Tanya

Originally shared by Tanya Dimitrova

"I'm looking for a place, to be the my place. Where I will hear the song of the birds, and the sun will warm my soul. A place where I will not hide in the shadows. A place that heals the soul. It will be my place!"

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