Silence and Quiet



In this silence and quiet
all the doors are open,
I´m being nothing and all.
Love and light have become tangible
in the here and now

in the here and now
and in the not here
my soul is merging with me.
The eternal, invisible to the eye,
is becoming visible.

– Deelia ©



Holidays by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow


The holiest of all holidays are those
Kept by ourselves in silence and apart;
The secret anniversaries of the heart,
When the full river of feeling overflows;–
The happy days unclouded to their close;
The sudden joys that out of darkness start
As flames from ashes; swift desires that dart
Like swallows singing down each wind that blows!
White as the gleam of a receding sail,
White as a cloud that floats and fades in air,
White as the whitest lily on a stream,
These tender memories are;–a fairy tale
Of some enchanted land we know not where,
But lovely as a landscape in a dream.