Morning Poem sticks of the sun and fasten themselves to the high branches —- of summer lilies. for hours, your imagination the thorn there is still each pond with its blazing lilies whether or not
Under the orange
ashes of the night
turn into leaves again
and the ponds appear
like black cloth
on which are painted islands
If it is your nature
to be happy
you will swim away along the soft trails
And if your spirit
carries within it
that is heavier than lead —-
if it’s all you can do
to keep on trudging —-
somewhere deep within you
a beast shouting that the earth
is exactly what it wanted —-
is a prayer heard and answered
you have ever dared to be happy,
whether or not
you have ever dared to pray.
sticks of the sun
and fasten themselves to the high branches —-
of summer lilies.
for hours, your imagination
there is still
each pond with its blazing lilies
whether or not
— Mary Oliver
SA Residence by Shatotto Architects
Water, the most precious, abundant and life subtly woven with it, makes Bangladesh a country of toil and poetry.
Bangladesh the largest delta on earth has 52 rivers that carry water from the Himalayas in an intricate pattern to the Bay of Bengal. During Monsoon these rivers inundate two third of the country’s land depicting water the major element of the country scape. When the water recedes, it leaves a fine layer of fertile alluvial soil and the entire landscape is transformed into large patches of paddy fields dancing with winds.
this is not real
Listen, says ambition, nervously shifting her weight from
one boot to another— why don’t you get going?
For there I am, in the mossy shadows, under the trees.
And to tell the truth I don’t want to let go of the wrists
of idleness, I don’t want to sell my life for money,
I don’t even want to come in out of the rain.”
I SEE YOU DESH, BECOMING TUMBLR FAMOU$$