Monday, February 28, 2011


An Idea Stolen in order to Share
Terri Windling's Beautiful Blog

Sheila Chandra

I am reminded of Monday mornings at Ananda Ashram upstate NY in the 90's, being in the kitchen helping with breakfast prep, looking out on a blissful lake...these sounds melting into the air, combining with birdsong as the sun rose.

And once more in another Tempo

Thanks also to another enlightened blogger
for this
  Mary Oliver Poem

 One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice—
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
“Mend my life!”
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do—
determined to save
the only life you could save.


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