Some might see only an empty field
but also the harvest has been and gone
and another planting is on its way . . .
and nearby is another field full of dreams . . .
(c) June Perkins, words and image.
“O God, my God! Praise be unto Thee for kindling the fire of divine love in the Holy Tree on the summit of the loftiest mount: that Tree which is ‘neither of the east nor of the west,’ that fire which blazed out till the flame of it soared upward to the Concourse on high, and from it those realities caught the light of guidance…”
-‘Abdu’l-Baha, Selections From the Writings of ‘Abdu’l-Baha
This months Nineteen Months Contribution
“Water symbolizes the water of life, which is knowledge, and fire is the fire of the love of God; therefore, man must be baptized with the water of life, the Holy Spirit and the fire of the love of the Kingdom.”
-`Abdu’l-Baha,Promulgation of Universal Peace
The rain itself hath no geometry, no limits, no form, but it taketh on one form or another, according to the restrictions of its vessel. In the same way, the Holy Essence of the Lord God is boundless, immeasurable, but His graces and splendours become finite in the creatures…
-`Abdu’l-Baha, Selections From the Writings of `Abdu’l-Baha
For more see Nineteen Months
“Blessed thou art and more blessed thou shalt be if thy feet be firm, thy heart tranquil through the fragrance of His Holy Spirit and thy secret and hidden thoughts pure before the Lord of Hosts!”
-‘Abdu’l-Baha, Tablets of ‘Abdu’l-Baha
To see more of Nineteen Months head HERE
For Fred Astaire and Paul Junior
A shadow of thought
a reflection of myth
dancing on the lawn
hand in hand.
A waltz of creation
a romance of words
sunlight’s a tapping
for a hero of dance.
A top hat and cane
a reflection of steps
a heel toe, a heel toe
a rhythm of hope.
A boy and a medal
a cowboy whose black
a boy and a hero
a heel toe, a heel toe.
A memory of movement
a wheelchair that’s left
sunlight’s a tapping
for a hero of dance.
(c) June Perkins, From Shadow Puppets, p. 15
Latest photographic contribution to Nineteen Months. This month’s theme – Words.
The beauty and power of the ocean expressed to me the unknowable, and fathomless mystery.
“To every discerning and illumined heart it is evident that God, the unknowable Essence, the divine Being, is immensely exalted beyond every human attribute…Far be it from His glory that human tongue should adequately recount His praise, or that human heart comprehend His fathomless mystery.”
-Baha’u’llah, The Kitab-i-Iqan
Latest contribution to Nineteen Months. For more see Ninteen Months Meditations on Kalimat – Words.
“Thou art My glory and My glory fadeth not; thou art My robe and My robe shall never be outworn.
Abide then in thy love for Me, that thou mayest find Me in the realm of glory.”
-Baha’u’llah, The Hidden Words
A ripple in the bay
A ripple in the sea.
A ripple in the ocean,
Far, far away.
Soft sounds in my ears
Roaring sounds in my head.
Sounds that engulf my body
And fill me with fears.
The gentle wave has gone.
It has grown 30 feet high,
The bay cannot contain it.
The beach looks forlorn.
Waves come in and out.
No longer ripples,
They become the road,
Men, women, children shout.
It’s too late to save us
The warning came when it was over.
The waves took all before it.
Making no apology or fuss.
The waves returned to the bay.
The waves returned to the sea.
The waves returned to the ocean.
Far, far, away.
By Jean Vallianos
What started the first ripple?
The twinkle of eyes
a gentle tug at the heart’s anchor
as the waves grew
their persistent rhythm
gradually washed over the shoreline
the tide pushing them ever higher.
Sometimes they rose up
green and glassy
If you didn’t dive through them
or ride them to shore
you’d be dumped and tumbled
like a piece of sea-weed
in the white foam.
When the waves shrank from the beach
the wise ran for higher ground
the cruelty of the surge crashed over those
foolish enough to test it’s power
leaving hearts wreckage
the ocean’s rhythm settles
leaving the flotsam and driftwood
sea-sculpted and polished smooth
in the dry ripples of sand
By Sally Moroney