Listening

The Moon’s Job

Our Moon Connection.
[Image by 愚木混株 Cdd20 from Pixabay]

The Moon’s not shy

Your winking eye

Knows a secret

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The Moon’s not singing

Your composition

In a bar

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The Moon’s not dreaming

Your lovely dream

In the dream-world

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The Moon’s always only listening

To your stories

Patiently till the end

Passing messages at times

Giving hints

To the storyteller

And the painter

Messages and hints of love…


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More posts for Moon Lovers –

To The Moon And Back

Moon Colour

Crescent Moon Lights

In Slo-mo Towards the Moon

The Moon is Moving


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Self

“This noise… it’s hard to listen to oneself.” 
“Is it? Is noise the reason?”

“What do you… why… why do you always have to ask so many questions? Clever little… Why should I answer anyway, there is no peace, I can’t think clearly.”

“Inner Peace…”

“No! Keep your dilemmas out of my mind. Ah! What’s wrong with people, why are they shouting? Madness! Can’t tolerate this…”

“Your complaints are audible to me, just so you know. I am listening”

“So am I, oh, why do I always fall for your tricks. I… I won’t say a word now. I’ll be quiet… ha simple… and that is my answer to you. Yes! I’ll be silent!”

“Good, you’ll be able to listen now.”

Red Stories

Red stones, red walls, red stories started it all. A simple drawing spoke about Time. Whispers passed the tale further, expressing and mixing their own self in it. Even when the tale got complex, even when the sound differed, the story kept flowing.
 
It trickled once to form a rivulet, never imagined of becoming an ocean… an ocean that defies gravity.
 
The story about a drawing in a cave, about a lost civilisation, about the pyramids, about the iron idols, about the farms and wheels, about smoke engines and machines, about the moon and the first man… a never-ending saga that teaches and preaches and reveals and warns to remember it all.
 
Every day begins an untold story and every day ends an old story.
 
Red stories, you are moulding and folding time beautifully… and I am listening.

 

Red stones, red walls, red stories started it all.
San rock paintings from the Western Cape in South Africa. [Source – Wikipedia Commons]
Cave painting at the Tassili n’Ajjer UNESCO World Heritage Site in southeast Algeria. [Source – Wikipedia Commons]

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Ik Onkar

Look within and fly high!
Image from Pixabay.

Parvez it is familiar because it is music… and music cannot be forgotten once the wavelength matches.


Parvez it is shining because it is guiding… we all can follow, dawn to dusk, it is listening, it is reminding.


Parvez it is present because it is true and ‘timed’ for you… beyond measurements, answers and queues.


Parvez it is travelling, because it understands the journey is never-ending… shimmering throughout, glorifying silence.


Parvez it is dancing because it believes in union… one circle, two circles, circles resolve it all.


Parvez it is there, because you garnered patience.


Parvez it is talking, because you are listening.


Parvez it is knowable, though you still don’t know it.


Parvez, look within.

Ik Onkar Sat Naam

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Listen to this Mul Mantar

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