No one lives life...
Disguised since childhood
haphazardly assembled
from voices and fears,
and little pleasures,
we come of age
as masks...
Disguised since childhood
haphazardly assembled
from voices and fears,
and little pleasures,
we come of age
as masks...
["The Mystery in disguise :)]
~
And though we strain against
the deadening grip of daily necessity,
I sense there is this mystery.
the deadening grip of daily necessity,
I sense there is this mystery.
All life is being lived.
Who is living it then?
Is it the things themselves.
or something waiting inside them,
like an unplayed melody in a flute?
Is it the winds blowing over the water?
Is is the branches that signal
to each other?
Is it the things themselves.
or something waiting inside them,
like an unplayed melody in a flute?
Is it the winds blowing over the water?
Is is the branches that signal
to each other?
Is it the flowers
interweaving their fragrances
or streets, as they wind through time?
interweaving their fragrances
or streets, as they wind through time?
Is it animals, warmly moving
or the birds that suddenly rise up?
Who lives it, then?
or the birds that suddenly rise up?
Who lives it, then?
God, are you the one
who is living life?
who is living life?
Rainer Maria Rilke
~
We are the luminosity of Life
...simply living.
Author unknown
~
Photo - shadow of Bamboo leaves
creating a "face" on a reflection of a rainbow
crystal on the wall.
creating a "face" on a reflection of a rainbow
crystal on the wall.
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