In Silent Mists

Healing Soul Streams

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~ ~ ~ slowly ~ ~ ~ and in silence the mist absorbs
the lakes and the hills . . . trees become indistinct
and distance vanishes . . . . . .

only the flowers and grasses nearby seem to be
on this earth ~ ~ ~ ~ birds fly out of nowhere and
back into nowhere again . . . . . . . .

There is intimacy in the soft air ~ ~ reverence ~
and peace . . . . . . . . the great peace of
a soul that knows that the sun still shines ~ ~ ~
~ ~ that the hills and lakes are just beyond ~
~ ~ ~ where they have always been ~ ~ ~ ~

and ~ knowing these things ~ ~ ~
finds loveliness in the mystic mist . . . . . . . .


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875. The foliage began losing its freshness through the month of August, and here and there a yellow leaf shows itself like the first gray hair amidst the locks of a beauty who has seen one season too many. ~Adapted quote by Oliver Wendell Holmes

Lord, it is time.
Summer has been very big.
Lay thy shadow on the sundials,
and on the meadows let the winds go loose.
Command the last fruits that they shall be full;
give them only a few more southerly days,
~Adapted quote by Rainer Maria Rilke

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September days have the warmth of summer in their briefer hours but in their lengthening evenings a prophetic breath of autumn.  The cricket chirps in the noontide, making the most of what remains of his brief life.  The bumblebee is busy among the blossoms of the aftermath, and their shrill and dreamy hum hold the outdoor world above the voices of the songbirds, now silent or departed. ~Rowland E. Robinson

Awake, north wind, and come, south wind! Blow on my garden, that its fragrance may spread everywhere. Let my beloved come into his garden and taste its choice fruits. ~Song of Songs 4:16  ✝

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