Tag Archives: Paint

Arrested

5 am day 3 pray

In the Quiet, Peace arrested me. 

Here there are no words or requests, just a being, a balance between things you know and do not. A willingness to see more, but after a while my eyes shut so tight I could not see. That was, is the real me, unwilling.

How strong my will is, did you ever guess, how strong.

http://raeindia.wordpress.com/2014/02/05/praying-drives-me-crazy/
RN Water colour
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‘Yes, but don’t go.’

Last night, all plates and dishes put away, the lights low in the bedroom where our youngest son went into his blanket ; the girls were yet to fall asleep, I peeped in at Joh, and he lifted that dark head calling me for a second kiss, then a whisper –

“Ma,I feel lonely.”

My heart missed a few beats ; it had been a long two months, there had been illness, a trip, school year starting over, uniforms that did not fit, unfinished assignments, a lingering cough and so many unfinished things…

“Why son ? We’re all here aren’t we ?”

“When you ‘re all busy with other things, I feel lonely,sometimes. “

Speechless, I hugged him close, closer, a third a fourth kiss.“You feel good now ?” 

“Yes, but don’t go.” He said nothing after that just smiled and the room filled with feelings I have no words for.

Human touch. How abused, misunderstood those two words are : and so very easy to ignore in all our busy-ness. We sat there an hour, not just Joh and me, but all five of us, an hour in that quiet gentle dark as the little ones fell asleep.

Dearest Lord God, the worst disease on earth : ‘loneliness’ and such a simple cure right from the mouth of Babes.

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Filed under ASIA, Culture, Disability, Dreams, Humanities, Inspirational, Literature

Wh -aaat ?

At the Music shop everything stood silent ; everything except chords within. Have you heard your soul sing ? Almost against your wish ?  Haven’t you ?

C’mon, Your soul – it raved, ranted, fought, wept, swore when ever it could, would. But then again it sang when it willed. When the tide turned, when it hit rock or sky, it soared like an eagle on wings you never knew you curled within, yes there – right there…

then it sang.

The words startle, shove you off the  cliff, off the shelf you built over the years, flings you off your fortress, your strongholds – It sings for you with words never uttered, chords untouched just lying there waiting wanting plucking at your throat. This morning as I write this there’s music in my skin seeping through as if that were normal. As if there’s more to a planet than sunrise and mortal joys. I don’t know much but this is getting clear – we have soul buddy, we have soul. And that soul has gates waiting to be opened …

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Filed under Biography, Blog, Dreams, Faith, Habits, Innerdialect, Inspirational, LIFE

Heavens !

 

How little the dark is, next to Light.

 

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Innerdialects

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This is the easiest ‘yes’ I have said

 

Yes, fall down, beautiful thing,

beautiful Rain ;  I love You, 

falling down ‘ like a new emotion’ ;

Healing Rain…

Blue Tree. watercolour RN

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Filed under People, Personal, Personality, Poetry

Amazed by Grace

Top Post on IndiBlogger

 

It became common to have Lali say she was healed of her stomach ache, and that fresh air blew into her home, though the electricity had failed. We laughed a bit, like she was insane, even when she cooed over her plants and trees and spoke to unlikely people, gave them her smiles and food. And prayers. Lali aunty could irritate the pants off you, if you were not in the mood for her ‘ miracles’ and she had many stories to tell. ‘ Never take oxygen for granted’ she would say, ‘ ..also good clean water. These are our miracles. Or when someone is good to you… these are precious moments..”

Today, I realise these things are not common place, these are rare, and sacred. There are some things we must work for, and there are fantastic things that happen when we least expected it.

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Filed under Artists, ASIA, Childhood, Disability, Faith, Fear

My Soul stammers

Thresholds. OIl RNoel

 

Early hour of morn – Peace,

like a sword – thru’ indifference.

 

How dumb man is when he is afraid.

My spirit shivers at the cowardice of kings,

 

and I am such a wisp of a thing, yet ,

each new dawn,

my soul stammers, then sings…

  

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Filed under Artists, ASIA, India, Inspirational, People, Personal, Writers

My burden is Light

What ? I asked the one with the flowers,

and acres of naked skin,

” How can your burden be Light ?”

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To the trees stooped with night, I asked it again, but

they were too busy to reply…

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I went to the flowers in the fields, and they said it to me, again,

” My burden is Light, ” ;  they were pregnant with blossom, with drippy leaf and waiting showers,

confused I turned away

Gul Mohar

and met a sky full of the sun, so full, it dawned on me, finally

Silence of the  Sun.  RN ( India, Bangalore)

Yes, Light. Light. A burden, as in a ‘ carrying’, a torch borne, a Vision of Beauty, held.

I still cannot embrace it all.

How could I,

but today I read these Words that spoke back at me,

My Burden is LIGHT…

spilling off rooftops and sky, lanes and silhouettes, smashing shadows

shedding darkness like filthy rags,

oh brilliant burden, be mine, be mine!

Huts on Beach Hill. Oil, Acrylic  RN

Huts on Beach Hill. Oil, Acrylic RN

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Filed under Abuse, Aroma, Biography, Challenges, Disability, Faith, Human rights, India, Oil&Acrylic, Personal, Poetry, Times

INTIMACIES

THIS SILENCE IS 

NOT QUIET, THIS PLACE NO LONGER

ALONE, YOU LEAD ME BESIDE

DESERTS AND SEASONS I CANNOT RE-ARRANGE, 

YEAH, THOUGH THAT IS SO, 

YOUR

ILLUSIVE-TRUTHS, SO SWIFTLY

EMPTY MY DESERTS

INSIDE. 

I NEVER SAW INNER DIMENSIONS BEFORE, NOT 

HERE, NOT ANYWHERE..

 

 

innerdialects

© Oleg Shel
http://fb.com/ArtPics.tv http://instagr.am/ArtPx

Photo: © Oleg Shelhttp://fb.com/ArtPics.tv http://instagr.am/ArtPx#ArtPics #Art #Photo #Photography #Pictures #Pics

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Filed under Challenges, Culture, Design, Disability, Faith, Hope, Human rights, India, Literature, People, Personal, Personal Reflections, Personality, Poetry

On A Broken Wing

  

 

How do You do that.

How.

Of all the things I cannot understand,

this one defeats me, that You 

fly me in,

on a broken wing,

to You.

Not just once, but

every time ; there’s always

You – within

Broken breaking Things.


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Filed under Culture, Faith, Friends, Homes, Hope, Humanities, India, Inspirational, Literature, People, Personal Reflections, Personality, Writers