Sometimes…

©2014 Aliana Alani

Sometimes there are moments

When I wander through the galaxies at night

Or feel fear on the tips of a child’s hand

Sometimes…

 

Sometimes the cry is too great

The anguish, the longing too large

Sometimes the cacophony overwhelms

And I long to rest

Sometimes…

 

Then somewhere the sun rises in a woman’s smilerising sun

A world turns and finally knows its own name

Joy surfaces in atoms and particles for no apparent reason

Sometimes…

 

Sometimes thoughts circle like tumbleweed

Along the vast landscape of the Eternal

Bumping into each other

Cascading or colliding

 

But sometimes they dance

In harmony, in union

Sometimes they love

And when they do, when they do

I breathe a sigh and relax

 

Sometimes…

lotus flower

Listen…

                           ©Aliana Alani 2014

 Listen to the winds

Everywhere there is poetry

Everywhere, a story

Your life and mine

 

The man in the street with a cup and a sign

The story it says of him

The story he has yet to tell

 

prayer flags

Listen to the winds

Whispers and prayers

Whispers and blessings

Listen

 

The Gucci bag and the bling tell a tale

But what’s inside tells more

The country, the clan, the lone wolf

All dancing on song lines from yesterday to tomorrow

 

Beating a drum, a heartbeat, a rhythm

Of passion and promise, sorrow and longing

Desires and dreams

 

Everywhere there is poetry

Everywhere, a story

Listen to the winds

Listen

 

 

There is a bridge …

There is a bridge that exists between two worlds – fragile, translucent, almost ethereal.

It hovers, beckoning. Its glow, shimmering.

But do we see?

 

It is temporary, this bridge, and will not last.

Do we know? Do we care?

 

It travels between the world of love & plenty, and the world that soon will know no air.

When it vanishes, we will be but in one world or the other.

Does this matter?

 

If you find yourself on its path, do not hesitate, do not linger.

Dash over to the world of your heart’s desire.

And always remember,

At any moment the bridge could disappear, like magic, into the eternal air.

©Aliana Alani 2014

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Starlight

We are starlight, for a brief second,

and then are no more.

 

star galaxy image

Back to the centre

to home

to the formless again.

 

We are starlight, for a brief second.

Why then this strife?

Why such discord?

What for?

We are starlight.

Why not Love?

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Blessings to you, Paco de Lucia

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I first came to hear the amazing sounds that poured from the heart and guitar of Paco de Lucia a few years ago while sitting in a modest house on a hilltop in the foothills of the Sierras in the ever moody and majestic Alpujarra of Andalucia.

I was house sitting, it was winter, it was my first time in Spain, and I was alone – alone with an exuberant mountain wind flicking through olive branches,  the sound of distant tinkling bells as goats were herded through the fields below, and the whispering whispers of the poetry of Federico Garcia Lorca mingling with the air (this was the region where many felt he had been murdered long ago).

It was a place ripe for the music of Paco de Lucia. And so was I.

One day as I sat sipping red wine, eating Spanish cheese, and pondering the mysteries of my life, I came across two DVDs sitting on the shelf; one of Paco’s life and music, another of the music and dance of Blood Wedding, a play written by Lorca. I became entranced by the power and passion, the sense of perfection and haunting beauty of both. From that moment on I was fascinated – with the music of Paco de Lucia, and the poetry of Federico Garcia Lorca.

I speak no Spanish, yes sadly still, so everything I know of it is from translation, and perhaps most important, from the heart –of the poet, of the artist/musician, of the music of flamenco and of an incredible Spanish classical guitar –  to my heart. For me it is a music whose touchstone is pure heart. What an amazing place to emit from. What an amazing place to be brought to.

It is of course possible that in order to travel to such a place, it will demand from us an inner quest for nothing less than excellence. Such a journey can be arduous. It certainly asks the best of us. From everything I have read, that is what it did for Paco de Lucia.

When I listen to his music I know that we, you and I. are blessed because of it.

Paco de Lucia left us today. He slipped away from our arms somewhere on a beach in Mexico.

He leaves behind a wealth of music. Like Andalucia, it is a musical landscape rich and vibrant, one that can colour the very fabric of our lives, if we open to it.

So gracias Paco, thank you. May your music kiss the angels as you grace their skies with your heart.

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It occurs to me that lately I am writing about profound talents who are leaving our world, some far too early. Talents, and yes, souls who will be truly missed, both for their journey into excellence, for the jewels they have bequeathed us, and for the beauty of their spirits and hearts.

I cannot help but wonder – what does that ask of us who are still here?

 

For Philip Seymour Hoffman – in memory & in gratitude

For sharing his amazing talent and beauty with us all … for daring to always push the envelop as an actor … and for being an inspiration to the world of story – THANK YOU.philip seymour hoffman 3 - Copy

This poem comes to mind – for his family, for his friends, and for those of us who never knew him personally but somehow feel the loss …

It is by Mary E Faye and it is called:     I DID NOT DIE

Do not stand at my grave and forever weep.

I am not there; I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.

I am the diamond glints on snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain.

I am the gentle autumn’s rain.

When you awaken in the morning’s hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and forever cry.

I am not there. I did not die.

Bless your heart, Philip Seymour Hoffman. We are richer because you were here.

To dream …

As we begin to crest the wave of the holiday season and move closer to the end of a year, many of us start, once again, to ponder dreams and desires, both new and old. Forget the resolutions. This is more about the questions that help us sculpt a new world for ourselves. Questions like: what is a our heart’s desire, what do we truly love to do and are we doing it, how would we like to spend each day of the next year of our lives, and for some, with whom? Are we daring to love? And then there’s the larger question – what do we want for our world?

Dreams (and desires) are like stories waiting to be told. Sometimes we dare to look in their direction, feel a flutter in our hearts, and act. Sometimes they filter through the night space rather than the day, hovering.

As I ponder the power such dreams can hold and what waits in those proverbial wings, a wonderful Irish poet comes to mind. Someone whose work I have a fondness for – William Butler Yeats.

Below is a poem in which resides a segment many have come to know. I offer it to you as food for thought. I sense that Yeats would have liked that.

william butler yeats

 

AEDH WISHES FOR THE CLOTHS OF HEAVEN    –  

BY WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

 

 

Had I the heaven’s embroidered cloths,

Enwrought with golden and silver light,

The blue and the dim and the dark cloths

Of night and light and the half light,

I would spread the cloths under your feet:

But I, being poor, have only my dreams;

I have spread my dreams under your feet;

Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

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“The job of the artist is always to deepen the mystery.”
                      … Francis Bacon

for those of you who love poetry …

wave-energy_nice-wave            

SOFT, MY LOVE …

                        © 2013 Aliana Alani

 

 

 

Soft, how the river flows

and I, a thousand dreams away, ride

like waves upon the sea of memory.

 

Soft, the winds they do approach

and with their building swirl and blow

doth come the dance of love’s hidden symphony.

 

Spin and twirl, my love                                              single hawthorn tree

the fairies’ melody begins like May flowers

fluttering on a budding hawthorn tree.

 

And you and I, once wrapped in gossamer

will soon discover the light of day.

 

Soft, my love, the world awakes

with a clap and thunder.

Amidst the swirl…

I pray for peace

I pray for love

I pray for you.

munich burning candle

I pray for health

I pray for wealth

I pray for you.

 

I pray for harmony

I pray for strength

I pray for you.

 

I pray for this world

I pray for our family

I pray for you.

 

I pray for clear vision, unbounded courage,

          and an open heart

I pray for who we truly are in the light of life,

          and who we can be – even here, even now

I pray for you.

 

I pray for you

I pray for me

I pray.

                                                                                                       Aliana Alani (c) 2013