Shades of the sun…

Sunrise or sunset: The pattern that forms with the bright burning orb in the center of the horizon has made the human mind go beyond and think of us as a part of something so much larger…
The sun rises and sets every day, only to be back without fail – a promise that was never broken. Yet one can’t fail to be amazed by the spectacular show that is not the same….

sunrise, sunset, sky, orange,
The sunrise just coming out after fresh showers with all its splendor !
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Sunset and me: the sun is going down into the depths of the ocean where it would refresh itself to be back again! 
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Not touched up even though it might appear to, this picture reminds me of the evening when the sky went ablaze darkening further the shadows. I was enveloped in a peach-orange-pink-ish bubble away from this world. It was magical!

 

My Solitude, sunset, the sea

The Daily Post: A Good Match -Photo Challenge. The sunset and the sea is better than a good match for my solitude at the final hours of the day…

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I watch the sunset at the South Padre Islands in 2015. Skyscape # 008


Eyes wide shut under the flying veil of hair

Rumbling ocean reverberates, flushing the day’s wear

Gulls forlorn cawing, split the brined air

Emotions shudder helpless, on a wing ‘n a prayer

Encompassing solitude deepens, skins my soul bare

By the calming sea, ‘n the darkening glare

Of the crimson sunset, I feel so aware…

 

 

Anger: the monk’s little story

 

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An evening in Rancho Viejo, Texas. The ambience– so dramatic and beautiful. None can beat Nature’s own filter! Just like being in a 3 dimensional painting … #nofilter (Skyscape # 007)

The Little Story: To meditate alone with no interruptions, a monk decided to go to a nearby lake. He took a boat and moored it in the middle of the lake, closed his eyes and began meditating. After a few hours of uninterrupted solitude passed and he was in a deep meditative state, when suddenly, he felt the bump of another boat colliding with his own. His eyes were closed still, but he was agitated, and felt his anger rising.  By the time he opened his eyes, he was about to scream at the boatman who had so carelessly disturbed his meditation. On opening his eyes, however, he was startled to find that it was just another empty boat that probably got untethered and floated to the middle of the lake.

That moment the monk had a profound realization: all the anger was within him; it merely needed the bump of an external object to provoke it out of him. And that moment on, whenever he came across someone who irritated or provoked him to anger, he reminded himself that the other person was merely an empty boat; it is he who has the choice to react independent of the whatever the other person did.

There have been times when I would feel frustrated and hopeless about things and myself, and it gave way to so much anger I didn’t know I was capable of. It is easy when you think you have a wrongdoer in your life to blame. But in absence any villains, one confronts the stark reality of one’s own nature. After the fact, realizing how it was making others feel would kill me. I felt powerless and at mercy of this intensity of the emotion I had no explanation for. Thats when I stumbled upon this story.

It hit me in the head like a brick. Past the cleverness of the story and the intellectual stimulation such stories might give, a space needs to be created for a lot of work to be done on self: take it in, assimilate the knowledge, contemplate on it until it shines back out as wisdom, becoming a part of one’s nature.

I wonder if you can relate to it…

The twilight tree… Skyscape # 005

Twilight, tree, sky, sunset.
The bare twilight tree. Skyscape # 005

THE TWILIGHT TREE

THE waning sun
The sky blue still
The night to come
The heart athrill

THE tree so bare
Looks up to the sky
The sunset’s glare
The darkness nigh

IT’S arms outspread
It’s soul inviting
A tree beckons
With love abiding

BOUND notwithstanding
Its Spirit free
All over, burning
The Twilight Tree..

Twilights are one of my favorite times of the day. It is a short time when two worlds merge, creating a third, evanescent one. This poem is dedicated to twilight and the witnessing tree.

 

 

I struggle…

It is when one is in despair and depression that there is struggle, and danger of falling in a deep dark pit that is very difficult to come out of. Or there is possibility of light, albeit a flicker, at the end of the tunnel, should one take those heavy first steps.  A poem written several years back still gives me hope to go on. To keep running…

See my other entry for Danger is here.

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The sun close to the horizon. Sunset, or sunrise, depends on the perception. Skyscape # 011

I struggle to go on with no light in sight
Like a runner out-of-breath and hope, halfway
Books, nor the Scripture, seems to come to my rescue
My knock on the Heavens doors falls on deaf ears!
I struggle to go on with no light in sight..
I come to you who is busy in a world not mine
Cant you tell in my indifferent pretense?
Read my eyes honey, I am breaking down!
I struggle to go on, but give up the fight
Where do I go and what do I do!
None but me knows my suffering the best
Almost dead, and without hope, I come back to me
I don’t struggle anymore, I just give in, hopeless
Thats when is born pure strength, a twin to my suffering
That takes me in its arms and wipes my tears
Whence did That come, who art Thou?
I catch some breath and start running again…