cover of book, stray birds R.Tagore (1916)
CHAPTER ONE - Rabindranath Tagore
WEEK ONE. conversation by clair and alex
Stray birds of summer come to my window to sing and fly away. And yellow leaves of autumn, which have no songs, flutter and fall there with a sigh. R. Tagore.
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everything is one. leaves whisper secrets of life and death round our feet and ankles, birds come and go in the same way. everything which is alive is dying.... is that true of everything?
Everything is two, too. After I sigh I breathe in. Everything which is alive is living. Even as it dies. The end is in everything, but beginnings are too. The leaves underfoot may be dead, but look what they inspire. Breathe in...
am i ready to really breathe?.... its a long time coming, shallow footsteps of breath have come awandering... but they must...or i must... push a little more deeply
'we dig through the ground and try to find the living'.
i like that.
mmm.... lovely. the trust...the surrender that we will feel where to grow from... and to.... it will be dark, there will be roots and depth...
...like intuition...is strong like special soft magic. magic whos ears pick up the silence in things... the place where the feelings are... some feelings who get covered in soft blankets and some who wake up like flowers.
Roots laid in autumn leaves wait patiently.
what was nice about the autumn sadness?