Zatzka
~ In my garden there is a large place for sentiment.
My garden of flowers is also my garden of thoughts and dreams.
The thoughts grow as freely as the flowers, and the dreams are as beautiful ~
Abram L. Urban
~A Secret Garden ~
If there were a secret garden,
What would it comprise?
Fragrant flowers, a babbling brook, butterflies?
Dragonflies, birds, and bees, there would be all of these.
But most of all, within ‘that place’,
Tranquil peace and serenity await;
Ever there for me and you to relax and renew.
So every morning before you start,
Visit the ‘secret garden’ of your heart.
~ And a poet said; Speak to us of Beauty
Where shall you seek beauty,
And how shall you find her
Unless she herself be your way and your guide?
And how shall you speak of her
Except she be the weaver of your speech?
The aggrieved and the injured say;
Beauty is kind and gentle
Like a young mother half-shy of her own glory
She walks among us
And the passionate say;
Nay, beauty is a thing of might and dread
Like the tempest she shakes the earth
Beneath us and the sky above us
The tired and the weary say;
Beauty is of soft whisperings.
She speaks in our spirit
Her voice yields to our silences
Like a faint light that quivers
In fear of the shadow
But the restless say;
We have heard her shouting
Among the mountains
And with her cries
Came the sound of hoofs,
And the beating of wings
And the roaring of lions
At night the watchmen of the city say;
Beauty shall rise
With the dawn from the east
And at noontide the toilers and the wayfarers say;
We have seen her leaning over the earth
From the windows of the sunset
In winter say the snow-bound;
She shall come with the spring
Leaping upon the hills
And in the summer heat the reapers say;
We have seen her dancing
With the autumn leaves,
And we saw a drift of snow in her hair
All these things have you said of beauty
Yet in truth you spoke not of her,
But of needs unsatisfied
And beauty is not a need but an ecstasy
It is not a mouth thirsting
Nor an empty hand stretched forth
But rather a heart enflamed
And a soul enchanted
It is not the image you would see
Nor the song you would hear
But rather an image you see
Though you close your eyes
And a song you hear
Though you shut your ears
It is not the sap within the furrowed bark,
Nor a wing attached to a claw
But rather a garden forever in bloom
And a flock of angels for ever in flight
People of Orphalese,
Beauty is life when life unveils her holy face
But you are life and you are the veil
Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror
But you are eternity and you are the mirror ~
Kahlil Gibran
Zatzka
~ For You Are The One ~
For you I would climb
The highest mountain peak
Swim the deepest ocean
Your love I do seek.
For you I would cross
The rivers most wide
Walk the hottest desert sand
To have you by my side.
For you are the one
Who makes me whole
You've captured my heart
And touched my soul.
For you are the one
That stepped out of my dreams
Gave me new hope
Showed me what love means.
For you alone
Are my reason to live
For the compassion you show
And the care that you give.
You came into my life
And made me complete
Each time I see you
My heart skips a beat.
For you define beauty
In both body and mind
Your soft, gentle face
More beauty I'll ne'er find.
For you are the one
God sent from above
The angel I needed
For whom I do love ~
Chris Messick
Zatzka
~The Secret Garden ~
~ There is a light that shows me the way,
To a secret garden, with a fragrant bouquet,
And as I enter through its welcoming gates,
To savor all that for me awaits –
I can't help but wonder why the light chose me
Why fate gave me the Garden's key.
For whatever the reason, this much I know,
It is a lovely place where I love to go –
A garden full of life's delights –
Of tenderness and wondrous nights.
A garden in which to nourish my soul;
A place to go to make me whole
Where the warming light becons me "stay;
Where always it is Valentine's Day.
Time has shown me this simple truth,
That the light that shines from high above –
That leads me to this garden each day
Is the nurturing light of your infinite love
~
Ara John Movsesian
Zatzka
~The Secret Rose~
~ Far-off, most secret, and inviolate Rose
Enfold me in my hour of hours
Where those Who sought thee
In the Holy Sepulchre
Or in the wine-vat, dwell beyond the stir
And tumult of defeated dreams and deep
Among pale eyelids heavy with the sleep
Men have named beauty
Thy great leaves enfold
The ancient beards the helms of ruby and gold
Of the crowned
Magi and the king whose eyes
Saw the Pierced Hands
And Rood of elder rise
In Druid vapour and make the torches dim
Till vain frenzy woke and he died
And him Who met Fand
Walking among flaming dew
By a grey shore where the wind never blew
And lost the world and Emer for a kiss
And him who drove the gods out of their liss
And till a hundred morns had flowered red Feasted
And wept the barrows of his dead
And the proud dreaming king who flung the crown
And sorrow away, and calling bard and clown
Dwelt among wine-stained wanderers in deep woods
And him who sold tillage, and house, and goods
And sought through lands and islands numberless years
Until he found, with laughter and with tears
A woman of so shining loveliness
That men threshed corn at midnight by a tress
A little stolen tress. I, too, await
The hour of thy great wind of love and hate
When shall the stars be blown about the sky
Like the sparks blown out of a smithy, and die
Surely thine hour has come, thy great wind blows
Far-off, most secret, and inviolate Rose
~
William Butler Yeats
~The songs of the waves and the hymns of the streams
Are scattered, and the voices of the throngs
Reduced to silence;
And I can hear naught but the music of Eternity
In exact harmony with the spirit's desires.
I am cloaked in full whiteness;
I am in comfort;
I am in peace ~
Kahlil Gibran
Zatzka
~ If Among the Hills,
when you sit in the cool shade of the white poplars,
sharing the peace and serenity of distant fields and meadows -
then let your heart say in silence,
"God rests in reason."
And when the storm comes,
and the mighty wind shakes the forest,
and thunder and lightning proclaim the majesty of the sky, -
then let your heart say in awe,
"God moves in passion."
And since you are a breath In God's sphere,
and a leaf in God's forest,
you too should rest in reason and move in passion ~
Zatzka
~ Heart!
We will forget him
You and I , tonight
You may forget the warmth he gave
I will forget the light
When you have done
Pray tell me
That I may straight begin
Haste, lest while you're lagging
I remember him ~
Emily Dickinson
Zatzka
~ O Holy Spirit of the Hazel,
hearken now:
Though shining suns and silver moons
burn on the bough,
And though the fruit of stars
by many myriads gleam,
Yet in the undergrowth below,
still in thy dream,
Lighting the monstrous maze
and labyrinthine gloom
Are many gem-winged flowers
with gay and delicate bloom.
And in the shade, hearken,
O Dreamer of the Tree,
One wild-rose blossom of thy spirit
breathed on me
With lovely and still light:
a little sister flower
To those that whitely
on the tall moon-branches tower.
Lord of the Hazel, now,
O hearken while I pray.
This wild-rose blossom
of thy spirit fades away ~
George William Russel
Zatzka
~ Spring ~
~ Come, my beloved,
let us walk amidst the knolls,
For the snow is water,
and Life is alive from its Slumber
and is roaming the hills and valleys.
Let us follow the footprints of Spring
into the Distant fields,
and mount the hilltops to draw Inspiration
high above the cool green plains.
Dawn of Spring has unfolded
her winter-kept garment
And placed it on the peach and citrus trees;
and They appear as brides
in the ceremonial custom
of the Night of Kedre.
The sprigs of grapevine
embrace each other like Sweethearts,
and the brooks burst out in dance
Between the rocks,
repeating the song of joy;
And the flowers bud suddenly
from the heart of Nature,
like foam from the rich heart of the sea.
Come, my beloved;
let us drink the last of Winter's Tears
from the cupped lilies, and soothe our spirits
With the shower of notes from the birds,
and wander In exhilaration
through the intoxicating breeze.
Let us sit by that rock, where violets hide;
let us Pursue their exchange
of the sweetness of kisses ~
Kahlil Gibran
Zatzka
~ There is another sky
Ever serene and fair
And there is another sunshine
Though it be darkness there
Never mind faded forests, Austin
Never mind silent fields
Here is a little forest
Whose leaf is ever green
Here is a brighter garden
Where not a frost has been
In its unfading flowers
I hear the bright bee hum
Prithee, my brother
Into my garden come ~
Emily Dickinson
Zatzka
~I believe for every drop of rain that falls
A flower grows
I believe that somewhere in the darkest night
A candle glows
I believe for everyone who goes astray,
someone will come
To show the way
I believe, I believe
I believe above a storm the smallest prayer
Can still be heard
I believe that someone in the great somewhere
Hears every word
Everytime I hear a new born baby cry,
Or touch a leaf or see the sky
Then I know why, I believe
Everytime I hear a new born baby cry,
Or touch a leaf or see the sky
Then I know why,
I believe ~
Zatzka
~ Love and harmony combine
And around our souls entwine
While thy branches mix with mine
And our roots together join
Joys upon our branches sit
Chirping loud, and singing sweet
Like gentle streams beneath our feet
Innocence and virtue meet
Thou the golden fruit dost bear
I am clad in flowers fair
Thy sweet boughs perfume the air
And the turtle buildeth there
There she sits and feeds her young
Sweet I hear her mournful song
And thy lovely leaves among
There is love: I hear his tongue ~
William Blake
Zatzka
~ Said the West Wind ~
~ I love old earth! Why should I lift my wings,
My misty wings, so high above her breast
That flowers would shake no perfumes from their hearts,
And waters breathe no whispers to the shores?
I love deep places builded high with woods,
Deep, dusk, fern closed,
and starred with nodding blooms,
Close watched by hills, green, garlanded and tall.
On hazy wings, all shot with mellow gold, I float,
I float thro' shadows clear as glass;
With perfumed feet I wander o'er the seas,
And touch white sails with gentle finger tips;
I blow the faithless butterfly against The rose red thorn,
and thus avenge the rose;
I whisper low amid the solemn boughs,
And stir a leaf where not my loudest sigh
Could move the emerald branches from their calm,
Leaves, leaves, I love ye much, for ye and I
Do make sweet music over all the earth!
I dream by glassy ponds, and, lingering, kiss
The gold crowns of their lilies one by one,
As mothers kiss their babes who be asleep
On the clear gilding of their infant heads,
Lest if they kissed the dimple on the chin,
The rose flecks on the cheek or dewy lips,
The calm of sleep might feel the touch of love,
And so be lost.
I steal before the rain, The longed for guest of summer;
as his fringe Of mist drifts slowly
from the mountain peaks,
The flowers dance to my fairy pipe and fling
Rich odours on my wings, and voices cry,
"The dear West Wind is damp, and rich with scent;
We shall have fruits and yellow sheaves for this."
At night I play amidst the silver mists,
And chase them on soft feet until they climb
And dance their gilded plumes against the stars;
At dawn the last round primrose star
I hide By wafting o'er her some small fleck of cloud,
And ere it passes comes the broad, bold Sun
And blots her from the azure of the sky,
As later, toward his noon,
he blots a drop Of pollen gilded dew from violet cup
Set bluely in the mosses of the wood ~
Isabella Valancy Crawford
Zatzka
~ If Among the Hills,
when you sit in the cool shade of the white poplars,
sharing the peace and serenity of distant fields and meadows -
then let your heart say in silence,
"God rests in reason."
And when the storm comes,
and the mighty wind shakes the forest,
and thunder and lightning proclaim the majesty of the sky, -
then let your heart say in awe,
"God moves in passion."
And since you are a breath In God's sphere,
and a leaf in God's forest,
you too should rest in reason and move in passion ~
Zatzka
~You would measure time the measureless and the immeasurable.
You would adjust your conduct and even direct the course
of your spirit according to hours and seasons.
Of time you would make a stream upon
whose bank you would sit and watch its flowing.
Yet the timeless in you is aware of life's timelessness,
And knows that yesterday is but today's memory
and tomorrow is today's dream.
And that which sings and contemplates in you
is still dwelling within the bounds of that first moment
which scattered the stars into space.
Who among you does not feel
that his power to love is boundless?
And yet who does not feel that very love,
though boundless, encompassed within the center of his being,
and moving not from love thought to love thought,
nor from love deeds to other love deeds?
And is not time even as love is,
undivided and paceless?
But if in your thought you must measure time into seasons,
Let each season encircle all the other seasons,
And let today embrace the past with remembrance
and the future with longing ~
~ Atelieret var fyllt av en rik rosenduft;
En lett sommerbris rusket i trærne i haven,
En tung vellukt av syriner
eller den finere parfyme fra lyserødt-blomstrende vedtorn
strøk ind gjennem en åpen dør ~
F. Portrettet av Dorian Gray av Oscar Wilde
~It Was In My Heart
To Help A Little
Because I Was
Helped Much ~
~ Gibran Memorial Plaque ~
~ May Blessings Come
Your Way ~
~ Press Picture To Return To Menu ~
Site Copyright