Sacred Quotes & Poems
First time I ever played in public, I received a God -sent. A man wrote A Rum poem on a napkin, explaining this is how he felt…
There is some kiss we want
with our whole lives,
the touch of Spirit on the body.
And the lily, how passionately
it needs some wild Darling!
At night, I open the window
and ask the moon to come
and press its face into mine.
Breathe into me.
Close the language-door,
and open the love-window.
The moon won't use the door,
only the window.
ALREADY GOT THIS UNDER HARP THERAPY I THINK !!!
Love is the beginning of the journey, its end and the journey itselforLove doesn’t need reason. It speaks from the irrational wisdom of the heart
Love is never about possessing but letting go
Dr Deepak Chopra
Water is free from the birth and death of a wave
Thich Nhat Hahn
Death is a stripping away of all that is not you. The secret of life is to "die before you die" — and find that there is no death.Eckhart Tolle
Some of us think holding on makes us strong; but sometimes it is letting go
The noblest pleasure is the joy of understanding
Leonardo da Vinci
Don’t die with your music still inside you. Listen to your intuitive inner voice and find what passion stirs your soul
Gibran is my favourite and the essence of what I want to create. We can probably only add part 1 and he refers to the HARP!!!!
Khalil Gibran - The Calling
Let me sleep, for my soul is intoxicated with love and
Let me rest, for my spirit has had its bounty of days and nights;
Light the candles and burn the incense around my bed, and
Scatter leaves of jasmine and roses over my body;
Embalm my hair with frankincense and sprinkle my feet with perfume,
And read what the hand of Death has written on my forehead.
Let me rest in the arms of Slumber, for my open eyes are tired;
Let the silver-stringed lyre quiver and soothe my spirit;
Weave from the harp and lute a veil around my withering heart.
Sing of the past as you behold the dawn of hope in my eyes, for
It's magic meaning is a soft bed upon which my heart rests.
Dry your tears, my friends, and raise your heads as the flowers
Raise their crowns to greet the dawn.
Look at the bride of Death standing like a column of light
Between my bed and the infinite;
Hold your breath and listen with me to the beckoning rustle of
Her white wings.
Come close and bid me farewell; touch my eyes with smiling lips.
Let the children grasp my hands with soft and rosy fingers;
Let the ages place their veined hands upon my head and bless me;
Let the virgins come close and see the shadow of God in my eyes,
And hear the echo of His will racing with my breath.
A goal stood before Siddhartha, a single goal: to become empty, empty of thirst, empty of wishing, empty of dreams, empty of joy and sorrow. Dead to himself, not to be a self anymore, to find tranquillity with an empty heard, to be open to miracles in unselfish thoughts that was his goal. Once all of my self was overcome and had died, once every desire and every urge was silent in the heart, then the ultimate part of me had to awake, the inner most of my being, which is no longer myself, the great secret.
Love is the bridge between you and everything
Change the way you look at things and the things you look at change
Wayne W. Dyer