Inspiration Monday: Tennessee Williams

“Here is the importance of bearing witness. We do not grow alone, talents do not prosper in a hothouse of ambition and neglect and hungry anger; love does not arrive by horseback or prayer or good intentions. We need the eyes, the arms, and the witness of others to grow, to know that we have existed, that we have mattered, that we have made our mark. And each of us has a distinct mark that colors our surroundings, that flavors the recipe of ‘experience’ in which we find ourselves; but we remain blind, without identity, until someone witnesses us.“ –Tennessee … Continue reading Inspiration Monday: Tennessee Williams

Inspiration Monday: Martin Luther

“This life therefore is not righteousness, but growth in righteousness, not health, but healing, not being but becoming, not rest but exercise. We are not yet what we shall be, but we are growing toward it, the process is not yet finished, but it is going on, this is not the end, but it is the road.” ― Martin Luther Continue reading Inspiration Monday: Martin Luther

Inspiration Monday: Haruki Murakami

“Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn. Why? Because this storm isn’t something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is you. Something inside of you. So all you can do is give in to it, step right inside the storm, closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn’t get in, and … Continue reading Inspiration Monday: Haruki Murakami

not so much now – a ghazal

Originally posted on A beetle with earrings:
Turn my head at every sound, not so much now. Regret takes refuge in me, not so much now. Was her hair brown? Her face an autumn evening? I remember she was me, not so much now. Heart-shaped envelopes, a book of ghazal, stuffed with songs and star-lit sleep, not so much now. From the border, the bullets travel in dust – leave your wounded memories, not so much now. One night of full moon, your arm around my waist, it’s all I wanted to see, not so much now. On your grave,… Continue reading not so much now – a ghazal