augenweide augenweide

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Christiane B. 

diese muscheln
diese muscheln,die ich gefunden habe
werden wir sein
befriedet blank geschliffen
ohne harm
in schönen farben
sie werden die ohren an uns legen
um zu horchen,
welches geräusch das meer macht. - Vivian Lamarque -

Heaven is not a place, and it is not a time. Heaven is being perfect. - Richard Bach -
from: Jonathan Livingston Seagull
#polamatic #polaroid #polaroids #bestofpolamatic #seagull #emotion

You will begin to touch heaven, Jonathan, in the moment that you touch perfect speed. And that isn’t flying a thousand miles an hour, or a million, or flying at the speed of light. Because any number is a limit, and perfection doesn’t have limits. Perfect speed, my son, is being there. - Richard Bach -

i hear the ancient footsteps like the motion of the sea sometimes i turn, there's someone there, other times it's only me. i am hanging in the balance of the reality of man like every sparrow falling, like every grain of sand. - Bob Dylan -

with the flow
against the flow
a wisp of wind in the shrubs
I'm waiting in the days on the other side - Antonia Gubser -

An unfolding story begins, and the wind sets into motion a soft note. Whispering songs of peace. A waltz of love, a whispering song, sigh in a joy that sweeps the field. - Denise Bekker -

Always, always you recede through the evenings toward the twilight erasing statues... - Pablo Neruda -

die Liebe der See gilt dem alten Mann
dem ewigen Wanderer mit den meteoritenzerfurchten Narben
ihm streckt sie sich entgegen gezogen von seiner Sehnsucht um dann wieder zurückzuweichen aus der unsichtbaren Umarmung und die Vereinigung bleibt Traum bis zu dem Tag
an dem alle Welten ineinander stürzen - Werner Franke -

That time was like never, and like always. So we go there, where nothing is waiting; we find everything waiting there... - Pablo Neruda -

Let the wind blow over. do not ask him questions. it's only be meaningful to be the wind that blows - Fernando Pessoa -

The world becomes a far - off, foreign place, // People are strangers, houses silent, unknown. - Leonard Clark -

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