I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times…
In life after life, in age after age, forever.
My spellbound heart has made and remade the necklace of songs
That you take as a gift, wear round your neck in your many forms,
In life after life, in age after age, forever.
Whenever I hear old chronicles of love, it’s age-old pain,
It’s ancient tale of being apart or together,
As I stare on and on into the past, in the end you emerge,
Clad in the light of a pole-star piercing the darkness of time:
You become an image of what is remembered forever.
You and I have floated here on the stream that brings from the fount
At the heart of time, love of one for another.
We have played along side millions of lovers, shared in the same
Shy sweetness of meeting, the same distressful tears of farewell-
Old love but in shapes that renew and renew forever.
Today it is heaped at your feet, it has found its end in you,
The love of all man’s days both past and forever:
Universal joy, universal sorrow, universal life.
The memories of all loves merging with this one love of ours
And the songs of every poet past and forever.
–Rabindranath Tagore
__________________________________________
Don’t we all feel this way? Doesn’t make it untrue…
I have come into this world to see this: the sword drop from men’s hands even at the height of their arc of anger because we have finally realized there is just one flesh to wound and it is the Beloved’s.
I have come into this world to see this: all creatures hold hands as we pass through this miraculous existence we share on the way to an even greater being of soul, a being of just ecstatic light, forever entwined and at play with Him.
I have come into this world to hear this: every song the earth has sung since it was conceived in the Divine’s womb and began spinning from His wish, every song by wing and fin and hoof, every song by hill and field and tree and woman and child, every song of stream and rock, every song of tool and lyre and flute, every song of gold and emerald and fire, every song the heart should cry with magnificent dignity to know itself as God: for all other knowledge will leave us again in want and aching – only imbibing the glorious Sun will complete us.
I have come into this world to experience this: men so true to love they would rather die before speaking an unkind word, men so true their lives are His covenant – the promise of hope.
I have come into this world to see this: the sword drop from men’s hands even at the height of their arc of rage because we have finally realized there is just one flesh we can wound.
–Hafiz
I have less and less patience for people that insist feminism is not relevant anymore. As long as there is rape, discussions about consent will matter. Plenty of people still don’t find the idea of targeting drunk people for sex abhorrent (some of them from my hometown, also see the pickup artist community). As long as this mindset exists, feminism will be relevant.
As long as women are reduced to their bodies.
As long as courts assume women should get full custody, because obviously a father could NEVER be as competent at child-raising.
I could go on. I do think there’d be less sexual abuse in churches if females were allowed in leadership roles. Yeah, my hometown church still doesn’t allow female pastors.
Read this article, started crying. Recommended if you don’t believe we still need feminism. Not recommended if you feel like having a good day.
I was having such a good day. Went to the Universalist Church here in Minneapolis (minister was a woman btw) and it was … transcendent. Focus on love and community activism. First church service where I’ve felt at home like that. First hymn was a Rumi poem.
Also I wrote a poem, will post it in two days (as I just discovered I already have a scheduled post for tomorrow).
So I wasn’t sure if I could combine these sauces but this random thing I threw together turned out so well I had to share.
RECIPE:
In a skillet:
chop and cook half an onion ( in olive oil, coconut oil, or water/ whichever you’re feeling), high heat.
Sprinkle with a ton of garlic powder (or use minced garlic) and a lot of Italian seasoning (or oregano).
While that’s cooking, chop up a Roma tomato (or two) and 4-8 oz of mushrooms (baby bella, champagne, whatever).
Add it all to the skillet. Turn the heat down a little.
Add about 3 or 4 tablespoons of spaghetti sauce or pasta sauce, whatever tomato sauce you have. You can add more if you want, I’m not the boss of you.
Add a splash of teriyaki sauce (or marinade).
Add a leeeeeetle (like a tablespoon, or two) ranch dressing.
Stir, cook…should almost be done cooking by now. Check the mushrooms.
EAT IT.
Fully customizable, you can use hot peppers, green pepper, add chicken, add bacon, mix in sriracha, chili powder, whatEVER you fancy! I feel like I could have put in eggplant, but I just have tomatoes and mushrooms right now because they’re on sale at Aldi.
Aldi also has teriyaki marinade and ranch dressing for just a dollar each…. yusssssssssss.
This sauce… bruh… this sauce is SO GOOD. I could pour it over chicken and cook it, I could use it for lasagna, it is so flavorful and delightful.
I ain’t a foodie, but bitch, I could be. I’ll update this with pictures, best believe I will be making it again tomorrow.
UPDATE: WITH PICTURES
Oh and here’s a song:
I tried to fill the space
Forget for my mistakes
You just can’t be replaced
You just can’t be replaced
I can’t forget your face
Come home, don’t fade away
You just can’t be replaced
You just can’t be replaced
You just can’t be replaced
You just can’t be replaced
You just can’t be replaced
You just can’t be replaced
You just can’t be replaced
You just can’t be replaced
You just can’t be replaced
You just can’t be replaced
Uncertainty could probably kill you if it got half a chance. Drifting in the not-knowing, poison or elixir, it’s all in how/if you ingest it.
(So maybe we’re more blood than bone, I can’t even see the weather forecast without placing bets in my head,
ephemeral is an animal that could have wandered off by now, reminds me of the percentage of failing marriages, (god, so precarious, don’t make me feel like my
vows are a cliff to dangle from.) I want to be sure, too. I have not taken this lightly.
You have to MAKE your odds better than those of a fortune-teller,
be what you promised you would be, force your path towards the light.
troutpasta 