Well today is my last day at HRF and the end of BGIA Summer 2009. I turned in my Core essay yesterday and my other one is due next Friday. I move out of the Y tomorrow and will be staying in my mom's college roommate's house for the next week, I'm really looking forward to it. I can't believe how fast it's all gone by. In four weeks I will be back at Bard and on my way to Senior year, talk about scary. Life is good besides a few bumps here and there. I'm reading The Sum of our Days by Isabel Allende, I love how funny and honest she is. Well I suppose that's my little update for now. Time to savor the rest of my summer and I'll leave you with a quote:
Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars. -Kahlil Gibran
Friday, July 24, 2009
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Darshan
by:Irene Black
Alone, we two
travel dust-layered
along the unfamiliar road.
How long?
An hour maybe, a day? Who knows, who cares?
Visions of temples, dark, inscrutable,
flicker and fade away,
time-shimmered into obscurity.
Here is no town, no habitation,
only the silent calm of reapers in distant fields,
and the lame bucking of black, bristled swine,
pincered by the thorny talons
of satin-suited crows.
Two grizzled buffalo, horns
resting like folded wings
graze in a grass-damp ditch;
while on a tarmac-flattened patch of road
a woman in a purple sari
sifts golden ragi, newly-threshed
beneath unwitting tyres.
At last the fields lie bare; their honey spilled.
Air flecked with powdered gold;
with slow applauding hoof beats and protesting squeals
of wooden cartwheels passing close;
with the sweet breath of karma-laden oxen
bearing the harvest home.
The undiscovered gods wait in the temple.
Let them stay hidden in dark places.
Clothed in golden glances
we two are divine
*Just a poem I found online that I happened to like
by:Irene Black
Alone, we two
travel dust-layered
along the unfamiliar road.
How long?
An hour maybe, a day? Who knows, who cares?
Visions of temples, dark, inscrutable,
flicker and fade away,
time-shimmered into obscurity.
Here is no town, no habitation,
only the silent calm of reapers in distant fields,
and the lame bucking of black, bristled swine,
pincered by the thorny talons
of satin-suited crows.
Two grizzled buffalo, horns
resting like folded wings
graze in a grass-damp ditch;
while on a tarmac-flattened patch of road
a woman in a purple sari
sifts golden ragi, newly-threshed
beneath unwitting tyres.
At last the fields lie bare; their honey spilled.
Air flecked with powdered gold;
with slow applauding hoof beats and protesting squeals
of wooden cartwheels passing close;
with the sweet breath of karma-laden oxen
bearing the harvest home.
The undiscovered gods wait in the temple.
Let them stay hidden in dark places.
Clothed in golden glances
we two are divine
*Just a poem I found online that I happened to like
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
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