Summer 2014


Give me something I can grasp on

Not to fall on the rails of abandoned existence of the world war one

Or to the nest where sweet reality quickly becomes dead cold


Give me something to hang on

My impatient hunger for the sweetie that you save for somebody else

Or the secret long lived not meant to be shared


Give me a wild flower

To remind me who I am and to trigger my mind

Towards simply extraordinary experience that you are


Give me a dream as a pillow to sleep on a plane

When we fly above contrariness to land on virtues

Which we have marked on a map as final destination


Give me new diary where we both can fit in

You- from the start, me- from the end

Going towards each other to blend



(... Full Moon strange travels.)

John O'Donohue continue reading my bed time stories--------

'When the light lessens causing colours to lose their courage... and your eyes fixed on the empty distance that can open on either side... When the old ghosts comes back to feed on everywhere you felt sure... Call on your heart. To welcome home your emptiness that it may cleanse you... to hear one true voice your rushed life fears...'


I sit on a doorstep drinking warm soya milk, watching the rain dripping on this warm summer's night...


It rains even in Italy...  Joana, 2011

It rains even in Italy... Joana, 2011

'No virtue is really a virtue unless it's permeated and informed by love. For example, justice without love is legalism. Hope without love is self-centredness. Care without love is duty. Service without love is servitude. Every virtue is an expression of love.'


'Compassion is the greatest expression of our personal mastery.'  (Gregg Braden)

by Brigita Stasun