| My heart I spilled
A few years ago... Or maybe longer, And definitely more than just once. Brooding over the ache, I tripped from distraction. Oops! Lost my grip And there it lay in abstraction. Fluid as water Upon the floor, Splayed and vulnerable, Contained no more; Bleeding clearly visible. No crying over spilt puddle, But two choices I did muddle, Both presenting the same outcome: Whether I mop up this spill Or leave to evaporate, My heart still succumbs to the same fate, Whether now or of late. For there is no safe bet, As inherent in love My heart I may spill, But the risk of that love I will never forget. (Inspired by Melissa Sharlat’s words and photo) August 2012 |  Spilled heart by Melissa Sharlat |
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The Interstitial Heart
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AUTHORLisa D McCall is a Life Coach, former zoologist/animal |
Switzerland Sky (ldm)
THE SUN NEVER SAYS
"Even After
All this time
The sun never says
to the earth,
'You owe Me."
Look What happens
With a love like that,
It lights the Whole Sky.
-Rumi
"Even After
All this time
The sun never says
to the earth,
'You owe Me."
Look What happens
With a love like that,
It lights the Whole Sky.
-Rumi
"Anything or anyone that does not bring you alive is too small for you."
David Whyte, from the poem Sweet Darkness
David Whyte, from the poem Sweet Darkness
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The Guest House
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of
sorrows, who violently sweep your house empty of its furniture, still, treat each guest honorably. He may be clearing you out for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice.meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.
Be grateful for whatever comes. because each has been sent as a guide
from beyond.
-- Rumi
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of
sorrows, who violently sweep your house empty of its furniture, still, treat each guest honorably. He may be clearing you out for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice.meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.
Be grateful for whatever comes. because each has been sent as a guide
from beyond.
-- Rumi
(Photo: Debbie Williams)