Luminous. . .Sunny. . .E

There in the middle of the field, by the side of a crystalline stream, I saw a bird-cage whose rods and hinges were fashioned by an expert’s hands. In one corner lay a dead bird, and in another were two basins — one empty of water and the other of seeds. I stood there reverently, as if the lifeless bird and the murmur of the water were worthy of deep silence and respect — something worth of examination and meditation by the heard and conscience.

As I engrossed myself in view and thought, I found that the poor creature had died of thirst beside a stream of water, and of hunger in the midst of a rich field, cradle of life; like a rich man locked inside his iron safe, perishing from hunger amid heaps of gold.

Before my eyes I saw the cage turned suddenly into a human skeleton, and the dead bird into a man’s heart which was bleeding from a deep wound that looked like the lips of a sorrowing woman. A voice came from that wound saying, “I am the human heart, prisoner of substance and victim of earthly laws.

"In God’s field of Beauty, at the edge of the stream of life, I was imprisoned in the cage of laws made by man.

"In the center of beautiful Creation I died neglected because I was kept from enjoying the freedom of God’s bounty.

"Everything of beauty that awakens my love and desire is a disgrace, according to man’s conceptions; everything of goodness that I crave is but naught, according to his judgment.

"I am the lost human heart, imprisoned in the foul dungeon of man’s dictates, tied with chains of earthly authority, dead and forgotten by laughing humanity whose tongue is tied and whose eyes are empty of visible tears."

All these words I heard, and I saw them emerging with a stream of ever thinning blood from that wounded heart.

More was said, but my misted eyes and crying should prevented further sight or hearing.

Khalil Gibran
caffeinegalore:

Espression by D_Bahmann on Flickr.
Find a group of people who challenge and inspire you, spend a lot of time with them, and it will change your life.
Amy Poehler (via lazy-balloons)
heyfranhey:

Love <3

heyfranhey:

Love <3

Once upon a time there was a boy who loved a girl, and her laughter was a question he wanted to spend his whole life answering.
Nicole Krauss, The History of Love (via joelie-louis)
fashionsslut:

Me.

musicpnppl:

 

Where Children Sleep photographed by James Mollison around the world.

"When photographer James Mollison was asked to do a project on children’s rights, he found himself thinking back to his childhood bedroom and the deep importance it played in his upbringing. Taking that idea with him around the world, he photographed a diverse cross section of children and the bedrooms they call home. His moving images remove the children from their home environment, showing them before a neutral background that mostly hides their economic status as if to say “kids are just kids.” Only when their bedroom is observed, however, does the full scope of their living situation become poiniently clear.”