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  • Silence

    silence

    Silence, unmoved and rising,
    Silence, unmoved and sheltering,
    Silence, unmoved and permanent,
    Silence, unmoved and brilliant,
    Silence, broad and immense like the Ganga,
    Silence, unmoved and increasing,
    Silence, white and shining like the Moon,
    Silence, the Essence of Siva.

    - Sivavakkiyar

  • An Autumn Evening

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    Dark hills against a hollow crocus sky
    Scarfed with its crimson pennons, and below
    The dome of sunset long, hushed valleys lie
    Cradling the twilight, where the lone winds blow
    And wake among the harps of leafless trees
    Fantastic runes and mournful melodies.

    The chilly purple air is threaded through
    With silver from the rising moon afar,
    And from a gulf of clear, unfathomed blue
    In the southwest glimmers a great gold star
    Above the darkening druid glens of fir
    Where beckoning boughs and elfin voices stir.

    And so I wander through the shadows still,
    And look and listen with a rapt delight,
    Pausing again and yet again at will
    To drink the elusive beauty of the night,
    Until my soul is filled, as some deep cup,
    That with divine enchantment is brimmed up.

    Lucy Maud Montgomery

  • October Trees

    "How innocent were these Trees, that in
    Mist-green May, blown by a prospering breeze,
    Stood garlanded and gay;
    Who now in sundown glow
    Of serious color clad confront me with their show
    As though resigned and sad,
    Trees, who unwhispering stand umber, bronze, gold;
    Pavilioning the land for one grown tired and old;
    Elm, chestnut, aspen and pine, I am merged in you,
    Who tell once more in tones of time,
    Your foliaged farewell."
    - Siegfried Sassoon, October Trees

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  • The Open Door

    "Between the heavens and the earth
    The way now opens to bring forth
    The Hosts of those who went on before;
    Hail! We see them now come through the Open Door.

    Now the veils of worlds are thin;
    To move out you must move in.
    Let the Balefires now be made,
    Mine the spark within them laid.

    Move beyond the fiery screen,
    Between the seen and the unseen;
    Shed your anger and your fear,
    Live anew in a new year!"
    - Lore of the Door

    autumn

  • Indian Summer

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    "The gilding of the Indian summer mellowed the pastures far and wide.
    The russet woods stood ripe to be stripped, but were yet full of leaf.
    The purple of heath-bloom, faded but not withered, tinged the hills...
    Fieldhead gardens bore the seal of gentle decay; ... its time of
    flowers and even of fruit was over."
    - Charlotte Brontë

  • Anger

    Anger is a great obstacle. The after-effect of anger is frustration and depression. We should take anger as a thief. Its very nature is to steal. We have love inside us and it is our treasure. If we allow anger, the thief, to enter into us, then it will immediately steal our inner treasure. When this happens we must immediately call the police. That is to say, when anger assails us we must cry inwardly for deep aspiration to come to the fore and chase away our anger. If we love someone, we cannot get angry; but for the time being we have lost our love. In order to regain our love, we have to call our aspiration-police to save our most precious love-treasure.

    Again, when anger comes to us we have to feel that it is something that is breaking us. We have come into the world to build. If we build something, then only will the world appreciate and admire us. So we have to see which qualities build our nature. Love and peace build our real life; anger only destroys.

    Sri Chinmoy

  • A Poison Tree

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    I was angry with my friend:
    I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
    I was angry with my foe:
    I told it not, my wrath did grow.

    And I watered it in fears
    Night and morning with my tears,
    And I sunned it with smiles
    And with soft deceitful wiles.

    And it grew both day and night,
    Till it bore an apple bright,
    And my foe beheld it shine,
    And he knew that it was mine, -

    And into my garden stole
    When the night had veiled the pole;
    In the morning, glad, I see
    My foe outstretched beneath the tree.

    William Blake

  • The Love of October

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    "A child looking at ruins grows younger
    but cold
    and wants to wake to a new name
    I have been younger in October
    than in all the months of spring
    walnut and may leaves the color
    of shoulders at the end of summer
    a month that has been to the mountain
    and become light there
    the long grass lies pointing uphill
    even in death for a reason
    that none of us knows
    and the wren laughs in the early shade now
    come again shining glance in your good time
    naked air late morning
    my love is for lightness
    of touch foot feather
    the day is yet one more yellow leaf
    and without turning I kiss the light
    by an old well on the last of the month
    gathering wild rose hips
    in the sun."

    W.S. Merwin

  • Lovesong From The Mountains

  • Samhain

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    Samhain marks one of the two great doorways of the Celtic year, for the Celts divided the year into two seasons: the light and the dark, at Beltane on May 1st and Samhain on November 1st. Some believe that Samhain was the more important festival, marking the beginning of a whole new cycle, just as the Celtic day began at night. For it was understood that in dark silence comes whisperings of new beginnings, the stirring of the seed below the ground. Whereas Beltane welcomes in the summer with joyous celebrations at dawn, the most magically potent time of this festival is November Eve, the night of October 31st, known today of course, as Halloween.

    Samhain (Scots Gaelic: Samhuinn) literally means ?summer's end.? In Scotland and Ireland, Halloween is known as Oíche Shamhna, while in Wales it is Nos Calan Gaeaf, the eve of the winter's calend, or first. With the rise of Christianity, Samhain was changed to Hallowmas, or All Saints' Day, to commemorate the souls of the blessed dead who had been canonized that year, so the night before became popularly known as Halloween, All Hallows Eve, or Hollantide. November 2nd became All Souls Day, when prayers were to be offered to the souls of all who the departed and those who were waiting in Purgatory for entry into Heaven. Throughout the centuries, pagan and Christian beliefs intertwine in a gallimaufry of celebrations from Oct 31st through November 5th, all of which appear both to challenge the ascendancy of the dark and to revel in its mystery.

    In the country year, Samhain marked the first day of winter, when the herders led the cattle and sheep down from their summer hillside pastures to the shelter of stable and byre. The hay that would feed them during the winter must be stored in sturdy thatched ricks, tied down securely against storms. Those destined for the table were slaughtered, after being ritually devoted to the gods in pagan times. All the harvest must be gathered in -- barley, oats, wheat, turnips, and apples -- for come November, the faeries would blast every growing plant with their breath, blighting any nuts and berries remaining on the hedgerows. Peat and wood for winter fires were stacked high by the hearth. It was a joyous time of family reunion, when all members of the household worked together baking, salting meat, and making preserves for the winter feasts to come. The endless horizons of summer gave way to a warm, dim and often smoky room; the symphony of summer sounds was replaced by a counterpoint of voices, young and old, human and animal.

    In early Ireland, people gathered at the ritual centers of the tribes, for Samhain was the principal calendar feast of the year. The greatest assembly was the 'Feast of Tara,' focusing on the royal seat of the High King as the heart of the sacred land, the point of conception for the new year. In every household throughout the country, hearth-fires were extinguished. All waited for the Druids to light the new fire of the year -- not at Tara, but at Tlachtga, a hill twelve miles to the north-west. It marked the burial-place of Tlachtga, daughter of the great druid Mogh Ruith, who may once have been a goddess in her own right in a former age.

    At at all the turning points of the Celtic year, the gods drew near to Earth at Samhain, so many sacrifices and gifts were offered up in thanksgiving for the harvest. Personal prayers in the form of objects symbolizing the wishes of supplicants or ailments to be healed were cast into the fire, and at the end of the ceremonies, brands were lit from the great fire of Tara to re-kindle all the home fires of the tribe, as at Beltane. As they received the flame that marked this time of beginnings, people surely felt a sense of the kindling of new dreams, projects and hopes for the year to come.

    The Samhain fires continued to blaze down the centuries. In the 1860s the Halloween bonfires were still so popular in Scotland that one traveler reported seeing thirty fires lighting up the hillsides all on one night, each surrounded by rings of dancing figures, a practice which continued up to the first World War. Young people and servants lit brands from the fire and ran around the fields and hedges of house and farm, while community leaders surrounded parish boundaries with a magic circle of light. Afterwards, ashes from the fires were sprinkled over the fields to protect them during the winter months -- and of course, they also improved the soil. The bonfire provided an island of light within the oncoming tide of winter darkness, keeping away cold, discomfort, and evil spirits long before electricity illumined our nights. When the last flame sank down, it was time to run as fast as you could for home, raising the cry, ?The black sow without a tail take the hindmost!?

    Even today, bonfires light up the skies in many parts of the British Isles and Ireland at this season, although in many areas of Britain their significance has been co-opted by Guy Fawkes Day, which falls on November 5th, and commemorates an unsuccessful attempt to blow up the English Houses of Parliament in the 17th century. In one Devonshire village, the extraordinary sight of both men and women running through the streets with blazing tar barrels on their backs can still be seen! Whatever the reason, there will probably always be a human need to make fires against the winter?s dark.

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