Tweet From Cory Muscara
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new deli... See more
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new deli... See more
This is for you if you've had some feelings this week
when the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
ideas, language, even the phrase each other
doesn’t make any sense.
the world is too full to talk about.
ideas, language, even the phrase each other
doesn’t make any sense.
The Last Sky
"They tried to bury us. They didn't know we were seeds."
Vidhika Bansal • Tweet
Rumi (Coleman Barks): “Don't be satisfied with stories, how things have gone with others. Unfold your own myth.”
River Kenna • Deluxe Tension™
The world seeks to label us, categorize us and pack us neatly into boxes. But we are humans, not objects. We are viscous. We dance around the lines between solid and liquid. We change and evolve. We ebb and flow. We shrink and grow. Follow the rivers that flow within you. pic.twitter.com/bzI4mX8jku
In celebrations, I laugh with those laughing
And in sadness, I cry with those grieving
The divine secrets are not separate from my cries
But only those who are cooked in the fire of love will hear them
These secrets are for the heart, not for eyes or ears
It is fire, not wind that makes me sing!
If you don’t have this fire,
you might as well be dead
Oh, ho... See more
And in sadness, I cry with those grieving
The divine secrets are not separate from my cries
But only those who are cooked in the fire of love will hear them
These secrets are for the heart, not for eyes or ears
It is fire, not wind that makes me sing!
If you don’t have this fire,
you might as well be dead
Oh, ho... See more