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Ogilvie Mountains, Yukon Territory
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“Midnight Magic”
By Rochelle Silva
At one of the coldest regions of the earth where most living beings fear to tread, in the middle of the night when not a soul stirs, arises a spectacular phenomenon in the sky: aurora borealis. Similarly, peace will dawn even after the deadliest conflict, because inside each one of us is the power to forgive, forget and love each other again.
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Alvord Playa, Oregon
“Song XXXV, Gitanjali”
By Rabindranath Tagore
Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high;
Where knowledge is free;
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow domestic walls;
Where words come out from the depth of truth;
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection;
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the dreary desert sand of dead habit;
Where the mind is led forward by thee into ever-widening thought and action
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.
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Yakkala, Sri Lanka Photo credits:Vijini Mallawaarachchi |
“Cloud play”
By Vijini Mallawaarachchi
Racing over the sky
Slowing down once
Then speeding up
Hovering above us
Twisting and weaving
Wriggling and twirling
Taking different figures
Even deceiving us
Floating with the wind
free and loose
Vanishing into thin air
as if spying on us
Shading the Sun
Enjoying the ride
Pranking about all
Having all the fun
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Death Valley National Park, California
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“He fears what he sees”
By Shailendree Wickrama Adittiya
The sun,
Silent but
Ever present
Frowned that day
He peeked over the clouds
Decided that
He was better off
Unseeing
Than seeing
For what he looked
Down at scared him
He seemed pale
In comparison
To the world’s
Red anger
He seemed like a
Mere raindrop
Compared to the great
Storm
That mankind
Was creating,
Contributing to
Yet, cursing
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Death Valley, California
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“Too human”
By Shailendree Wickrama Adittiya
We were not meant to
Reach up to the
Great black heavens
Why were not the
Mysteries of the earth
Enough?
Why seek the truth
The story behind
Why the sky is blue
Or where the gods
Rest?
Why not watch from below
At that great beauty?
Why not say a
Silent prayer of thanks
That the skies are so forgiving?
That they have forgotten
The dreadful wars
The hate, the deaths
And yet,
On days when the sky
Has no mercy
When the clouds fail
To shield the world from
The sun.
Or the clouds them selves,
Heavy with rain,
Cover the world
In darkness.
And on such days,
You look up at the skies
And ask, with a sad smile,
“You haven’t forgiven.
You haven’t forgotten.
You are too human,
Aren’t you?”
“My sky over the years”
By Rochelle Silva
I sang of the star which was,
“Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky”.
And of homes on the range,
“Where the skies are not cloudy all day”.
Wrote about “Uncle Sun” with his smiling face,
Who brought day and night without fail.
Beheld the joy of flying a kite,
On August days with smiles bright.
Shouted with joy at rainbows,
And thought that clouds formed shapes galore.
Over the years, my sky changed too,
And became my stratosphere,
And the place for the ozone layer,
Or Orion and the Big Dipper.
But no matter how old I grow,
I’ll always be thankful,
To the beautiful sky,
That is always there,
For all of us,
And wish with all my heart,
“Oh! May I always laugh and sing,
Beneath God’s clear blue sky”.
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Boundary Range, BC/Alaska border The photograph is the property of Marc Adamus(http://www.marcadamus.com/) and has been used with his direct permission. |
“So long for this moment”
By Marc Adamus
I figured these flowers probably waited a long time to enjoy a sunset like this. The growing season is short high in the Boundary range near the Alaska border, which I crossed and photographed over a month of solo trekking. The area is renowned for bad weather, but I enjoyed some amazing views like this one quite often nevertheless.
“White”
By Shailendree Wickrama Adittiya
White is peace
It is surrender
It is the giving up of hope
White is the cloth
That wraps the corpse
Burning to ashes
White is the thira
That lights the oil lamp
An offering to the Buddha
White is her saree
She wears to the temple
Praying for safety
White are the clouds
That float against the blue
Of a sky that has seen no hate