There are signs of life from the other side of the rainbow – your soul shining across to me.
I’m no longer sad for your departure, I have learned you have never left.
You bloom in every rose, you smile in every sunshine, we breathe the same air.
I celebrate your life and love as I celebrate all others and the entire eternity.
63 words, poem and photos/ and roses grown by -Adela Galasiu / memyselfandela June 2018
Dedicated to my father Ioan, for his birthday, 24.06.1949. Happy birthday dad, the roses bloom for you!
defrosting (syn)apses and dreams.
in renewed life
from the ancient mud.
Leaves waltz stormy with the light
Bees rest tired feet for a spell
before conquering another petal.
Sit and listen.
be humble. be grateful.
you are. now. alive.
45 words, Adela Galasiu, May 2016
Photography: Adela Galasiu , April-May 2016
A gentle thought to all the women in the world
Mothers and sisters,
Young girls and grandmothers.
March is the month that celebrates you all,
Your kindness and love,
Your beauty and your smiles.
Our life would be nothing without you.
May the ones in your life love and cherish you
As you rightly deserve.
Photo: Camelia, by Adela Galasiu, February 2016, Isle of Wight, UK.
Death and life are a circle
None starts, none ends
They just continue one another.
Hope raises from pain
Growing out of darkness
Like a flower blooming.
Nobody and nothing gets lost
We are all One. We grow, we transform,
All breathing atoms of the same universe.
My hand holding yours
Through relative time and space:
Once I loved you, I’ll love you forever.
63 words, Me, Myself and Ela- Adela Galasiu, 22nd of December 2020, photo Adela Galasiu
Dedicated to my father, Ioan, who went to God 31 years ago, and to all the people I love, have loved and I’ll ever love. We are all One.
Memory. One of the strongest muscles in our being. It can contract and ruin your life crushing you underneath or it can gently lift your soul in the light, no matter what life throws at you.
When I was a child my grandmother used to have in a corner of her garden a columbine that used to grow again and again every year. I remember how fascinated I used to be as a little girl by the filigree shape and the delicate yet robust structure of this flower. I could study it day after day when it bloomed or when it’s petals were falling. I used to be very caring with the flowers. And when I say flowers, I mean beings, living creatures that I respected deep in my child’s heart. It never ceased to amaze me and make me happy whenever I saw it, because only there, in that corner of the garden, hidden in shadow under a lilac tree one could have found my columbine. There were no others, it was unique and the neighbours had none. It’s incredible how simple things that adults don’t even notice can be such an awesome thing for a child.
Many years I grew up with the beautiful columbines, studying them as they opened their purple-blue flowers. Columbines meant holiday, freedom and childhood. Not in so many words, but with a warm cosy feeling deep within. Words meant nothing then, only the heart was full of feelings and of a light that an adult is losing somewhere on the way.
This year I was contemplating my bare garden, frozen and with no trace of life. Then suddenly an incredible invisible force, a singular touch of grace has awaken the life in the sleeping buds and wrinkled flowers that rose their heads and stretched their beings in the warm sunshine. Then mesmerised I have discovered hundreds of columbines.
Is it God’s message that life is beautiful and full of diversity on a multitude of layers at the same time? Or is it just a cosmic coincidence? No matter what it is, it has brought back to me that warm cosy feeling in the midst of a busy life full of stress. The morning when I saw the columbines bloom I felt how one must feel when they win the lottery. To others this means nothing. To me it means the return to innocence.
400 words, memyselfandela, June 1st 2015
Photo: Adela Galasiu, May 2015