Lonely

Loneliness

Is
An island
In
The middle
Of
A sea of people

R.R (aged 11)

Loneliness is part of being human.
It reminds us that we are not
Complete in ourselves.

David Runcorn

“We're born alone, we live alone, we die alone.
Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we're not alone.”

Orson Welles

“The most terrible poverty is loneliness, and the feeling of being unloved.”

Mother Teresa

“Pray that your loneliness may spur you into finding something to live for, great enough to die for.”

Dag Hammarskjold

Little do men perceive what solitude is, and how far it extendeth.
For a crowd is not company, and faces are but a gallery of pictures,
and talk but a tinkling cymbal, where there is no love.
Francis Bacon

Source

Let the Sleeping Dogs Lie....

You've heard of the old saying let sleeping dogs lie,
Which in another way put means leave old grudges die.
Do not harbour old grudges for as long as you live,
You may not forget but you sure can forgive........

- Francis Duggan

Clicked this picture on a cool morning, just after sunrise, near the Kali Backwaters at Sunkeri-Kadwad, in Karwar. These dogs were content to lie there, without bothering about me, even when i stepped close to them to click this picture, and they continued to lie there.... These dogs look the same, maybe of the same mother....

The Old House

The Old House in the Glen
By - Kate Wiley

Winter has come and the wind and the rain
Wash over the house in the glen.
It cradles itself as if it were cold
For no one still lives within.
The years have passed over it, leaving it aged
And empty, and lost, without heart,
With no one to live there, no one to care
And the leaves are piled up on the hearth.
If you stand in the doorway, you can feel
Soft music that hangs in the air,
Like the soul of the house that ever lives on
Though there’s no longer any to hear.
The door is now gone, the windows un-paned,
The wood on the roof has gone slack.
But it still lingers on, as if waiting for
The people it loved to come back.
The old house listens, and waits, and sings
As the wind blows in through the door
And the beat of the heart of the house still sounds
Like the tread of their feet on the floor.

Source

Ocean of Forms - a poem by Nobel Laureate Rabindranath Tagore

Ocean of Forms 

by Rabindranath Tagore

I dive down into the depth of the ocean of forms, 
hoping to gain the perfect pearl of the formless. 

No more sailing from harbor to harbor with this my weather-beaten boat. 
The days are long passed when my sport was to be tossed on waves. 

And now I am eager to die into the deathless. 

Into the audience hall by the fathomless abyss 
where swells up the music of toneless strings 
I shall take this harp of my life. 

I shall tune it to the notes of forever, 
and when it has sobbed out its last utterance, 
lay down my silent harp at the feet of the silent.