Tá mé ach aoi ar an saol seo

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why do the hundred rivers rush towards the sea?

I am but a guest to this world.

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When life begins we are tender and weak.
When life ends we are stiff and rigid.
All things, including the grass and the trees are soft and pliable in life.
dry and brittle in death.

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A strong wind does not blow all morning.
a cloudburst does not last all day.

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I am but a guest in this world
while others rush about and get things done
I accept what is offered
Oh, my mind is like a fool,
aloof to the clamour of life around me
Everyone seems so bright and alive
with the sharp distinctions of day
I appear dark and dull
I am drifting like an ocean
floating like high winds
Everyone is so rooted in this world
yet I have no place to rest my head.
Perhaps this is difference.

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Quiet the restlessness of the mind.

Sharpen a blade too much and its edge will soon be lost.

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Can you remain steadfast as the motherbird who sits in her nest?

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Wait.

Wait for the passing wind.

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One step, two step, three step four.

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You promised me one step more.

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( cas pian I leigheas / Tá mé ach aoi ar an sail seo. is an ongoing conversation with the landscape of Devon. All images and film copyright to Beatrice Jarvis and may not be reproduced without permission.)

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~ by beatricejarvis on September 28, 2014.

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