August 2020 M T W T F S S 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31
- autumn clarity Connection Contemplation Deeper Truth Existentialism Haiku Moment Inner Knowing Inner Life Intuition Knowing memories Moment of Peace Monochrome Mystery Photo Photography Poetry Prose Remembrance Ruminations sentimentalism Silence Spirituality Stillness sub consciousness Uncategorized Visual Poetry Winter Wondering
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Blogs I Follow
- Seeing Things 10,000 Ways
- DoubleU = W
- Walking my path: Mindful wanderings in nature
- Dreams Never End
- The Morning Porch/Patio
- AshiAkira's Blog
- Find Your Middle Ground
- Dancing on Frozen Beaver Ponds
- DSH notebook
- Quiet Pilgrim
- In A Spacious Place
- Belinda Broughton
- Bri Bruce Productions
- Virgilio is on a quiet journey...and wondering...
- Ming Thein | Photographer
Category Archives: Knowing
Snow is falling silently while I think of my friend, alone in a coffee shop, misty-eyed. It is 10:03 pm, Tuesday.
I do not know what to say. I just wish that the leaves on the ground can talk and tell you that even in the depth of winter it still feels like Autumn.
These are uncertain times and the more urgent our need for poets who can see the different shades of gray in a pale early morning winter sky, who can hear birdsongs even in the absence of birds, who can wipe … Continue reading
Alone in this cold Grey November morning. In this moment, I deeply surrender to the pale sunlight, the silent leaves, the wet grass that is still green. There are no birds, no songs, only the fluency of silence, the knowing … Continue reading
The snow silently came down last night. There is a certain kind of reverence to it. And then those warm tears just came out. Just like that. So beautiful yet so strange.
Beauty speaks through the crunching sound of dried leaves. Alone and lonely on a long walk, it makes so much sense. I think this is how we fall in love.
Raining, cold, and dark. Autumn leaves. Silence. They all are not lies. They just made me realize what truly matters in life. And it goes deep.
The way I understand the mystery of being alive is the way I understand how the ancient cold autumn wind blows.
Sometimes time travels life a floating leaf.