أحمد عبدالسلام

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“In the dark night of all beings awakes to Light the tranquil man. But what is day to other beings is night for the sage who sees.”
Bhagavad Gita

Jennifer Soldner
“My words are my soul. Whether I am writing or speaking, my words are always the most accurate window into what I really think, feel and believe.  I have never understood lies, games, rumors or gossip.  Words, in my world, are always pure.”
Jennifer Soldner, A Look Inside a Rare Mind: An INFJ's Journal Through Personal Discovery

John Marrs
“There are some things one can only achieve by a deliberate leap in the opposite direction.’ —Franz Kafka”
John Marrs, When You Disappeared

Li-Young Lee
“Have You Prayed”

When the wind
turns and asks, in my father’s voice,
Have you prayed?

I know three things. One:
I’m never finished answering to the dead.

Two: A man is four winds and three fires.
And the four winds are his father’s voice,
his mother’s voice . . .

Or maybe he’s seven winds and ten fires.
And the fires are seeing, hearing, touching,
dreaming, thinking . . .
Or is he the breath of God?

When the wind turns traveler
and asks, in my father’s voice, Have you prayed?
I remember three things.
One: A father’s love

is milk and sugar,
two-thirds worry, two-thirds grief, and what’s left over

is trimmed and leavened to make the bread
the dead and the living share.

And patience? That’s to endure
the terrible leavening and kneading.

And wisdom? That’s my father’s face in sleep.

When the wind
asks, Have you prayed?
I know it’s only me

reminding myself
a flower is one station between
earth’s wish and earth’s rapture, and blood

was fire, salt, and breath long before
it quickened any wand or branch, any limb
that woke speaking. It’s just me

in the gowns of the wind,
or my father through me, asking,
Have you found your refuge yet?
asking, Are you happy?

Strange. A troubled father. A happy son.
The wind with a voice. And me talking to no one.”
Li-Young Lee, Behind My Eyes: Poems

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