“so I wait for you like a lonely house
till you will see me again and live in me.
Till then my windows ache.”
Pablo Neruda (via quotewhore)
“I thought the earth remembered me,
she took me back so tenderly,
arranging her dark skirts, her pockets
full of lichens and seeds.
I slept as never before, a stone on the river bed,
nothing between me and the white fire of the stars
but my thoughts, and they floated light as moths
among the branches of the perfect trees.
All night I heard the small kingdoms
breathing around me, the insects,
and the birds who do their work in the darkness.
All night I rose and fell, as if in water,
grappling with a luminous doom. By morning
I had vanished at least a dozen times
into something better.”
Mary Oliver, Sleeping in the Forest (via loveyourchaos)
(Source: fernsandmoss, via loveyourchaos)
(Source: nikonstudio, via loveyourchaos)
“Listen. Are you breathing just a little and calling it a life?”
Mary Oliver (via loveyourchaos)
(Source: oofpoetry, via loveyourchaos)
blua:
“In this house you can see and hear the river from every room,’ The homeowner says. It is a beautiful display of architecture and landscape designed by David Johnston Architects.
3/365: A new friend. Some horses just want you to take their photo.
Hundreds of spinning blades reveal the invisible patterns of the wind in American artist Charles Sowers’ kinetic installation on the facade of the Randall Museum in San Francisco.
via dezeen
(via jelly-noodle)
“We would be together and have our books and at night be warm in bed together with the windows open and the stars bright.”
Ernest Hemingway (via blua)
(Source: serenadeofaneclecticloversmirage, via blua)
“Aren’t we all waiting to be read by someone, praying that they’ll tell us that we make sense?”
Rudy Francisco (via loveyourchaos)
(Source: wintertigerlilly, via loveyourchaos)
