Nothing passes from rest to motion – unless you move it in hidden ways

Every Picture Tells A Story: Nest Of The Lemon-Breasted Flycatcher

You glide between the heart and its casing
as tears glide from the eyelid.
You dwell in my inwardness, in the depths of my heart,
as souls dwell in bodies.
Nothing passes from rest to motion unless
you move it in hidden ways,
O new moon.
~ Mansur al-Hallaj (Persia, 9th century)

An essay on getting older

What's Your Favourite Smell? Mine Is Petrichor
The western region of Australia’s Great Sandy Desert.

 

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