My little love bird Secuna passed away this morning . He was 22 years old . Another little piece of my heart flown away on the wings of love .
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| To everything there is a season, |
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Sunday Is For Angels
My little love bird Secuna passed away this morning . He was 22 years old . Another little piece of my heart flown away on the wings of love .
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7 comments:
Sorry for your loss Ma.
b
A little segment from T.S. Eliot Little Gidding.
What we call the beginning is often the end
And to make and end is to make a beginning.
The end is where we start from. And every phrase
And sentence that is right (where every word is at home,
Taking its place to support the others,
The word neither diffident nor ostentatious,
An easy commerce of the old and the new,
The common word exact without vulgarity,
The formal word precise but not pedantic,
The complete consort dancing together)
Every phrase and every sentence is an end and a beginning,
Every poem an epitaph. And any action
Is a step to the block, to the fire, down the sea's throat
Or to an illegible stone: and that is where we start.
We die with the dying:
See, they depart, and we go with them.
We are born with the dead:
See, they return, and bring us with them.
The moment of the rose and the moment of the yew-tree
Are of equal duration. A people without history
Is not redeemed from time, for history is a pattern
Of timeless moments. So, while the light fails
On a winter's afternoon, in a secluded chapel
History is now and England.
With the drawing of this Love and the voice of this
Calling
We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
Through the unknown, unremembered gate
When the last of earth left to discover
Is that which was the beginning;
At the source of the longest river
The voice of the hidden waterfall
And the children in the apple-tree
Not known, because not looked for
But heard, half-heard, in the stillness
Between two waves of the sea.
Quick now, here, now, always—
A condition of complete simplicity
(Costing not less than everything)
And all shall be well and
All manner of thing shall be well
When the tongues of flame are in-folded
Into the crowned knot of fire
And the fire and the rose are one.
Let there be some joy in your sadness
hindujapanese
I didn't even realize there was a bird in your menagerie. Condolences and cyberhugs.
Yep..someday I will relate the story of Secuna and Meena and how I came to have them . Meena died 7 years back.Quite the pair ....they don't call them 'lovebirds' for nothing .
Secuna lived a very loved and cared for life ... and he has flown home to meet again with his Meena ! A little piece of your heart is not gone - it has made your heart fuller because of the love it gave ! LUv u ..cheryle
Aw Man!
Ma!
Seems like you're not getting any breaks lately.
Massivley huge hugs to you and your little angel with the extra set of wings...
So sorry about your loss Ma...
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