To deny the fruits of history is to deny the trees of history.
Why must you spend your aching nights, contemplating this caged bird, chirping gaily? You say, “He sings to be freed.” She replied, as she murmurs beyond your sight, “He sings to remind me. I, too, will be home.”
I decided I didn’t want chemistry. Art’s more me, I figured. Who cared for tradition, not me. I’d create a new me, a new path. I’d become a trailblazer. So what if it’s lonely. I’d sit in a hall of fame someday. I’d find a writer, illustrate her stories into light novels. Make my own […]
Came up to a pathway facing a domed, pillared open-aired temple-like structure. Heard voices in the luminescent dark; trees half-circled around the temple-dome branching outwards in a crescent, evergreen at centre and highest moving into deciduous towards the tails. The wind rustling through the trees, the temple-dome on a slight slant, not quite a hill, […]
Aren’t you cute. Poking through the books in this shop, so shy, incredibly timid, aren’t you? You want to check out the new release, don’t you? Just ask those university kids to step out of your way. But no, you’re too polite. It’s why I’m not telling you who I am. Yeah, I’m your bestie […]
Red. Not too much red in this shop. It depends on the shades, luminosity, not only the hue. It’s exquisite. There’s other colours abound here. Maybe if I sit at a table and chair here, I can pretend it’s a desk. Maybe in a classroom, in a large lofty tower, rising to amazing heights. Dizzying […]
Christianity is a religion with an emphasis of taking example by the unfortunate peoples affected by the dynamics involved in social relations. Social justice, when applied to the distribution of opportunities within societies, is a calling embedded deeply into Christian conscience.
And You are always and forever before and alongside us.
I began each Inshallah practice with these questions brought into our classroom: What is my connection with these people’s songs?
I am not my mother’s keeper,
Nor fulfillment of her dreams.
I pray, someday she’d learn to see
I’m not her pathway to God.
Her life depends not on me.
This; poison of her womb
Despite her, strives to light
Grows on, past sweetest night.
I move with life, remaining strong,
Dreaming with her father’s sight.
Slowly working on posts & changing things up. Returned from Toronto’s Kamelot concert and not harmed in yesterday’s van crisis. — Karina
… and hope fills your heart as you sing with the wind.