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!
Christ Is Risen! True He Is Risen! Христос воскрес!
“Christ is Risen from the dead
Trampling down death by death
and to those in the tombs
He is bestowing life!”
Thought of the day: Regardless of what you believe deep inside, that you can make it or not, YOU ARE RIGHT!
There’s a time for work, for words and definitely for thoughts in between. After my year off to explore life, I am now back with more energy than ever and hopefully with more wisdom as well. Having taken some time to rest and rewind, the consequence was a greater resilience but also the epiphany that life is much simpler than we think it to be. We are the authors of the complications and we are the blind paying for it too.
It finally feels like spring. An even though there are battles to be won and tasks to be accomplished, it all starts with a grain of hope. Or a grain of trust in our own ability to make it.
There are many people out there who work very hard, yet who (captive in their own existence) cannot see the wood for the trees. They never understand how important they are for others and this is because nobody has ever told them what a great job they do or what incredible abilities they have to make this world a better place with their efforts, every day.
This thought goes out to all those quiet awesome people who do not know how great they are because they are humble. Who may not even appreciate how hard they work because nobody gives them a kind word. They may not trust themselves because nobody else trusts them.
If you know any of those people, do a great thing today: Tell them a big THANK YOU for being themselves. Tell them to carry on because they make such a difference. And tell them to believe they will make it. And it will happen.
300 words and Photos: Memyselfandela/ Adela Galasiu, April 2018
this human soul
million foes ambush it
thousand adversity winters wash it off
yet it rises from hell
22 words & photo- memyselfandela/ adela galasiu , July 2017
essential readings flow over the sky
in scattered light feathers of transparency,
souls of angels dancing in abstract patterns of joy,
leaving behind the dull grey led of stormy clouds.
take the sun for a heart
to fill you with the rhythm of light,
overflowing the limits of your human syncope
and the chasms of your mind.
I am there, dissolving in the blue,
setting and rising, silent ray following the sempiternal shine,
eroding heart growing again to be human
remembering that I was once meant to be born free.
90 words, Adela Galasiu, 2016
Photo: Adela Galasiu
It was a kind reminder of a Saint’s day
moved too soon in the life after life
where flowers never wither, and rivers are always fresh,
and the human heart is forever coherent.
John has not killed any dreadful dragons
still, in a humble sacrifice
he has blessed others and has made possible the glory
of the true Life.
I have found these faint memories
in the depths of an imaginary drawer
with fields of gold tenderly waving in the wind
like the breath of my father on his birthday.
Dedicated to my father, John, born on St. John’s day, June 24th.
90 words, Adela Galasiu, 2016
I have looked death in the eyes few times. For others but also for myself. I have been often told that there’s no God and no afterlife, but folllowing my encounters with death I guess I am too convinced of the contrary to listen to those sceptic voices. I do respect what other people think, but respecting others will never reduce my beliefs to nothing, on the contrary.
Most of the people have an absolutely disgusted look on their face when they hear about death. Some venerate it. Some fear it to the extent that they don’t even want to think about it. We’re all aware it exists. Most of us cannot understand it. But the same death that means decay, foulness, nothingness and still, is part of us just as much as it has been part of our ancestors too.
People turn their face away from death because they are scared or because they have been taught that it can bring disease or that it is unclean. Or because they prefer to concentrate on the life, rather than see the whole process, black and white, doing and undoing, life, death and new life again. For the immediate you and me, what matters is today, what we do, what we have, what we eat, where we go. But we live in a society that is equally one of death as much of one of life, isn’t it? Or maybe even more one of death than one of life? We eat meat, we cut flowers, people hunt, people get cremated and buried or offer their bodies to science. People sell weapons and wars are being fought. Some people thrive while others starve to death.
There is not only the beauty and goodness daily put on display for sales targets, but also the reverse side of it all. There are not only new born babies and blooming flowers, but also dead people laid to rest and entire systems that revolve around death itself. From the undertakers that earn a fortune while dealing with grieving families to the little beetles that eat decaying flesh, all have a little part in it.
Some of the birds that have nested last year have died, and a suite of insects and plants contribute now to taking apart and redistributing every material atom of them. Every little creature and plant that dies gets quickly surrounded by a cortege of creatures, just like a circus that comes to town and gets very busy before the show. Behind the scenes of it all nothing gets saved or lost, but everything is transformed in new matter for life, and so new life can find the raw minerals needed for it to emerge again.
Many years ago, as I was dealing with the water that was trying to find its way into my lungs, I had forgotten who I was or what I wanted from life. What I had eaten that morning or what I had in my bank account had no meaning at all. It was all worthless and the only thing I could gasp for was a breath of air. I was, I guess, not different than a wounded bird that beats its wings one more time before it takes a last breath. A little part of me knew that it could have been the final moment that day. And yes, it was scary. Scary because I had no idea what was about to happen. Horribly scary because I had no control over my own life. There and then I was not ready to give up. Between few heartbeats and a hope for air it occurred to me that I had not appreciated life truly until then. And God how I wanted to live!
In a mysterious way, a hand has been stretched my way. Not only a friendly material hand, but also a divine one. Then, when I finished coughing, with a horrible salty aftertaste and a stomach full of seawater, feeling sick and wet, I thought that it was not the time to go just yet, not until I would have learned the lesson of what life was all about. I think I was determined to take life more seriously.
I think I understand life and death more now, but like any person that has been sightless for many years, I am now awfully blinded by the intense light of the truth. That moment of salvation, the spark of life in my veins and the thought that accompanied them cannot be the result of an evolutionist theory, they are rather a mystery that my human mind is not ready to embrace just yet.
Other creatures are unaware of the realities of our human life. Birds and animals and plants cannot understand our complicated life and needs, our food, our languages, our customs. They do not consider themselves the greatest in the universe like we do. They have no idea what mathematics or science are, yet they are very much alive and lead a simple happy life. There are a limited number of neurons in our skulls, how could they possibly perceive the infinity of the universe? It is impossible. I am convinced that us humans cannot understand the whole complexity of life, all the dimensions that surround us, all the beauties of the universe and even less the mystery and greatness of the Creator of it all.
900 words, Adela Galasiu, 2016
Photography: Adela Galasiu, May 2016