Last Night the Rain Spoke to Me Last night Photo by Shawn Nystrand the rain spoke to me slowly, saying, what joy to come falling out of the brisk cloud… That’s what it said as it dropped, smelling of iron, and vanished… Then it was over. The sky cleared. I was standing under a tree.… Continue reading Mary Oliver
I’ve always loved you, and when you love someone, you love the whole person, just as he or she is, and not as you would like them to be. — Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina. (Norilana Books February 16, 2008) Originally published 1873.
When will this inner night—the universe—end And I—my soul—have my day? When will I wake up from being awake? I don’t know. The sun shines on high And cannot be looked at. The stars coldly blink And cannot be counted. The heart beats aloofly And cannot be heard. When will this drama without theater —Or… Continue reading Fernando Pessoa