In the middle of February, I walked through the village, taking a path I've travelled many times, but seeing the new. I think that might be one of my favourite things about life. Finding the seemingly new in the old or familiar. It was an unexpectedly sunny morning, and something shone silver on my left. It looked like a silver foil horse. I crossed the road, and discovered a horse I had never seen before in a field of snowdrops I had never noticed before.
He was behind bars, which might account for it. He is the Hanover Horse…
I've no idea why he lives there or who planted him there, but this is his view for a few weeks in February…
Further on, I stopped to greet my precious friend Victoria, who just happened to be outside her front door on her way out to her sewing class. "Come quickly and see my snowdrops and daffodils!" she tempted, so I did…
And later, walking with Angelina and the twins, I looked up and saw this…
All that remained was something of summer, and the phone box provided me with that…
Is there anything more summery than cricket? Well, not for my father anyway…
And the last of the lovely things is this… my Masters dissertation, comb bound and handed in!
I live a meditative life in a green village in England. I was diagnosed with Lupus when I was 18 and some of my poetry writes itself in response to living with such a peculiar, demanding and life-altering illness. And some of it is about love longing hope birdsong waiting for spring... I write about freedom. And heroes. I am often and very easily inspired!
Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind. 'Pooh?' he whispered. 'Yes, Piglet?' 'Nothing,' said Piglet, taking Pooh's hand. 'I just wanted to be sure of you.'
WU FENG ROAD
The art and heart work of my beloved Jeanne-ming Brantingham-Hayes… you will never have seen anything like it.
Life waits patiently for true heroes - Thich Nhat Hanh.
DISTANT CLOUD PHOTOGRAPHY
Photographer Chris Boland creates worlds of beauty here.
A HANDBOOK FOR LIVING
in pursuit of a room of my own...
There was a star riding through clouds one night, and I said to the star, 'Consume me' - Virginia Woolf
STAFFORD SAYS, I LISTEN
Some time when the river is ice ask me
mistakes I have made. Ask me whether
what I have done is my life. Others
have come in their slow way into
my thought, and some have tried to help
or to hurt; ask me what difference
their strongest love or hate has made.
I will listen to what you say.
You and I can turn and look
at the silent river and wait. We know
the current is there, hidden; and there
are comings and goings from miles away
that hold the stillness exactly before us.
What the river says, that is what I say.
EATING POETRY by Mark Strand
Ink runs from the corners of my mouth. There is no happiness like mine. I have been eating poetry.
KINDNESS by Naomi Shihab Nye
Before you know what kindness really is, you must lose things, feel the future dissolve in a moment, like salt in a weakened broth.What you held in your hand, what you counted and carefully saved, all this must go so you know how desolate the landscape can be between the regions of kindness.
Breathing with Thich Nhat Hanh
the war of art
The warrior and the artist live by the same code of necessity, which dictates that the battle must be fought anew every day.
Have you heard of Somaly Mam? She is Cambodian, survived slavery, and transforms the lives of young girls every moment she lives and breathes.
I keep my guru in my heart, and Gandhi in my head.
Tenzin Tsundue is a Tibetan poet and activist, currently residing in exile, in Dharamsala.
Strengthened by Frida Kahlo
“I leave you my portrait so that you will have my presence all the days and nights that I am away from you.”
Une Envie de Sel
The Unbearable Lightness of being Q... and her family by Maia Chavez Larkin
Blog Like No One's Reading
Agnes'_Pages_, one of my favourite places to travel.
it is only with the heart that one can see rightly
What is essential is invisible to the eye
Dr Karen Woo, the softly spoken British humanitarian aid worker, who was killed in Afghanistan last year. She was a dancer for years before realising she could not truly help be a changemaker through ballet.
In Shaista's Library
A place I draw inspiration from. My happy place :)
from Catherine at A Thousand Clapping Hands
Sent when I was at my worst in hospital, this was like a balloon filled with hope :)