Working on a Further Leave to Remain to stay here with you. The application process means hundreds of questions; lots of requirements; meeting every one. Submissions of different documents, photos and proofs; it’s really me; it is a true test of wills where the equation is patience, endurance and emotions.
Why does the truth require proof. I guess it means there are emotional forces here aligned with the strategy and purpose. I know the universe exist; Do I really need to know how the entire universe works? Can it be simplified into equations?
I think some people speak as if the universe is something to be solved, but not experienced. Somehow I don’t believe equations take into factor human nature; or how we as humans tend to navigate by emotion and not always by logic or proof.
Logic if too constrained by rules is fundamentally flawed when applied to anything with a heart of its own because the heart is organic; yet a living matter. I am living matter. We are. And organic, with heart; perfect and flawed.
So, I’ll get to stay
Excited about what may
So we’ll never be apart
You have my whole heart
You are enough proof
Love for all you do
Answer to the equation
Love needs no explanation
For you; This I am grateful;
I love our walks through the park with the dogs. They take us through the flowering trees in the botanical gardens. I think about how much happiness this garden has brought to many.
There I consider how much the trees towers over us. I love how rough the bark feels under my touch. How they flower and thrive even in the most extreme weather. How the boughs of blossoms stretch out over our heads as it begins to rain; the trees sheltering us from the sudden bursts. How they can stand there; to be still and silent, with the calmness of one; This garden is over a hundred years old. They have seen the way of the world.
I look and wonder how much this garden has seen, and I think about all the ones who have come and gone; only to adorn it’s beauty. The life of these flowers has survived the years. It’s astonishing how seen the lives and how many moments have been played out around them. Life, loves and all the tears, the laughter and even the poets sitting near them as they write, pondering their next line, the next simile, or the next metaphor.
These words are just some of my thoughts well sanded maybe repetitive; perhaps to be put away into a jar a collection of memories. I will always cherish our walks and talks in this garden and in this park and sharing feelings. Its when held to the eye and we can look and listen; appreciating that right here in Wales that I find there are so many colours for everything and some things don’t change and I’m grateful for being right here with you in this garden. I love that!
The sudden light of cloudburst sprinkles and pastel hues and hopscotch lines creating rainbow designs is the question in the artists eyes while nature answers to her why’s; what is this Light?
Is it electromagnetic radiation that is visible and perceivable by the human eye?
Is it the colours between red and violet.
Does it have frequencies of terahertz, wavelengths and nanometers; equal to one billionth of a metre?
Is there is the sensation of perceiving light; it is brightness and sudden light; the medium of illumination…is that what makes sight possible.
There is the illumination where it’s derived from a source of light; the light from the moon and the pathway of light and when illumination of another when standing in the light.
There is daylight, dawn and daybreak and windows that admit illumination in with architecture and openings that divide panes in a glass.
What about the light that provides information or clarification to research that produces new light on a question. Enlightenment, brightness and countenance.
Light can be a state of awareness or understanding derived from the light of an experience and Spiritual awareness. Is it possible there light can be a guiding spirit or divine presence in each of us?
Perhaps light is a way of looking at or considering a matter; an aspect or perhaps even a way to see into a situation in a different light.
To understand other’s individual opinions means to allow choices and standards; to accept the capacities of others with those who act according to their own light and with equal respect of those who are different. Could that be the light of insight; of understanding, information, and ideas.
They say light is a being; a form of energy; that light creates light and when another form of energy is supplied; There it becomes incandescence. It’s the vibration of entire atom and that luminescence comes from the electron.
This light of energy is illuminating just as the sun enlightens the earth. With light and energy it becomes clear to the intellect or conscience allowing us to shed the light of truth and knowledge.
With the increase of knowledge; it enlightens the mind and our understanding; easing heavy burdens and difficulties we bare; borne and done. That is to be that one who we seek to be; light of heart; graceful, agile and light.
To be that one light even it’s only to that one person; or to the many they inspire; or the one whom we adore. To be the one who lights up our lives and gives it back in return. It is that kind of light that sets us on fire; it is an igniting, a kindling and a burning and a receiving of light.
I watch the sun late in the afternoon, nature and the woods luminous with golden beams streaming through the trees, answering my questions while capturing nature in this light.
Thank you for reading.
I blinked at the news when I heard about the slaughtered innocent in Paris.
Then I bit my lip and closed my eyes, sighing. It was late; why Paris?
Why this, I was tired when the news came on at 3:00 AM in the morning.
I did not know why I just happen to wake up when the news came on.
Coincidence maybe. But it really gave me a sense of deep loss and longing.
All I really wanted was to hear that this wasn’t real and maybe a cup of hope or anything…
I laid still next to him. There we stayed and crouched down. Then, next to us were the doggies.
I tilted my head to his side, trying to figure out just why this violence was happening.
Wondering why France as if was in my house, and why so close to our home.
It wasn’t like the terrorist had been given a reason that they could just waltz into a peaceful loving nation whenever they liked…
But civilians and peaceful and at that and in Paris.
“No” I mumbled, drawing out in silence. A prayer for Paris; hoping for peace; an end to hate.
And all around the world…all I wish is for everyone to love another.
BY DAFYDD AP GWILYM
It seemed as if we did not sleep
One wink that night; I was sighing deep.
The cruellest judge in the costliest court
Could not condemn a night so short.
We had the light out, but I know,
Each time I turned, a radiant glow
Suffused the room, and shining snow
Alit from Heaven’s candle-fires
Illuminated our desires.
But the last time I held her, strong,
Excited, closest, very long,
Something started to go wrong.
The edge of dawn’s despotic veil
Showed at the eastern window-pale
And there it was,—the morning light!
Gwen was seized with a fearful fright,
Became an apparition, cried,
“Get up, go now with God, go hide!
“Love is a salt, a gall, a rue,
A vinegar-vintage. Dos y Ddw,
Vaya con Dios, quickly, too!”
“Ah, not yet, never yet, my love;
The stars and moon still shine above.”
“Then why do the raucous ravens talk
With such a loud insistent squawk?”
“Crows always cry like that, when fleas
Nibble their ankles, nip their knees.”
“And why do the dogs yip, yammer, yell?”
“They think they’ve caught a fox’s smell.”
“Poet, the wisdom of a fool
Offers poor counsel as a rule.
Open the door, open it wide
As fast as you can, and leap outside.
The dogs are fierce when they get untied.”
“The woods are only a bound from here,
And I can outjump a deer, my dear!”
“But tell me, best beloved of men,
Will you come again? Will you come again?”
“Gwen, you know I’m your nightingale,
And I’ll be with you, without fail,
When the cloud is cloak, and the dark is sky,
And when the night comes, so will I.”
Prolific 14th-century Welsh poet Dafydd ap Gwilym is considered by many to be one of the greatest Welsh-language poets. Though what is most of what is known about his life is gathered from his poetry, it is thought that he was born in the village of Brogynin, Penrhyncoch, Wales, to an aristocratic family, and that during his life he traveled throughout Wales.
Trained in the Welsh bardic tradition, . . .