Another song from a band I also listen a lot to.
His voice, the melody and the lyrics …
Goosebumps all over my body.
While I am re writing some stuffs I wrote during my abcense from WordPress, I want to share something with you.
I don’t only love words but I am also extremely passionate about music. As long as I can remember music made my blood rush, made me feel alive. And I was able express myself in ways my words could not.
And my world became a bit brighter.
Every time I am in a bok store or a music store – I feel this expectation, this tingeling in my stomach, that something good is about to happen. A satisfaction of some kind wich I can’t find somewhere else. You know the 5 year old kid in a candy store? The shining eyes, smile on the face jumping up and down? I feel like that kid.
Anyway, enough talk and over to what I wanted to share.
One of my favourite bands, Katatonia, has just released(finally!) a new album and the song I share is really beautiful.
It got under my skin.
Hopefully you will like it also.
The music in my dreams – is music from another world, a world that is real, but wich exists beyond ours and sometimes touches our finest senses on some of us.
A world where all appearances – trees, glades, meadows, rivers is casting a warm light; and where a distant and heavenly music fills the air like sweet perfume.
A world populated by infinitely useful and protective beings of a shimmering light, communicating directly from one soul to another. In silence.
A world where the soul knows neither pain or sorrow, but is filled with a deep peace and an incredible joy.
A world that lies before and after, beside and behind our world and the awareness of which relieves humans fear of death.
And some of these beings; they are among us in this world. They are in the breeze and the water. Fire and earth.
When the wind sweeps across a field of grass and makes little ripples in it like a lake; in a field of grains – it makes waves like the sea itself. And suddenly turns up and chases the clouds in the sky like a flock of sheeps.
When the sea lovingly embraces the cliffs with wet kisses and then withdraw with a playful silent laughter and small streams that trickle in the woods carrying fever red leafs, telling that the season is changing.
When the sparks of the evening fire that gives the mighty gift of dreaming – and also give relief of something old and painful; to be buried into the ashes and be carried away on the wings of the wind with a distant song of the trees accompagnied with the scent of Hackberries and spread out on the soil. To fertilize the earth so life can grow again. And you look up from the fire and see the person that gives you peace, comfort and joy. Fear and doubts are gone. Nothing else matters.
They are everywhere and in everything.
To remind us that every story has an end. But in life every end is a new beginning.
© Sirenia 2012
© Photo Stelios Mpatz
I am honored to say that Anil has nominated me for these two Awards. Thank you so much!
Your blog is a big inspiration to me and I don`t know how many times I have read your posts over and over again.
Thank you for letting me and all others into your mind, heart and soul, Anil.
The Sunshine Award
One Lovely Blog Award
I would like to pass these two awards over to the following blogs:
Graham – for sharing your thoughts and feelings in a way I relate MUCH to.
Francois Bergh – your poems touches me deep inside, never stop what you are doing.
Anil – what can I say? I can`t let you out, your blog is such a huge inspiration to me. Simply amazing.
Celeste – a woman and a blog I simply adore.
Tony – wich blog and words always makes me think twice.
Rumpydog – wich has given me many laughs and smiles!
George W Mahn III – it`s like you put a spell on me when I read your words. Fantastic.
A silent moan … has anyone remembered?
Who is still able to remember about
how they were dreaming and longing
laughing and dancing
About living; instead of only existing;
and then about how they were dying …
Who is still able to remember
about flying towards heavenly worlds
beyond the borders of mind;
– where nothing matters at all
Maybe to linger and maybe once to return …
All that remains are our shadows
an echo that silently asks
Do we really exist;
or are we just a lost memory
of what could have been.
© Sirenia 2012
Photo © Stelios Mpatz
As a child I was very timid. I was scared of a lot of things. Cemeteries. Drunk men. Strange old ladies, especially at winter when they wore dark clothes.
In my room there was an old closet I was afraid of. It stood besides the window and made a dark silouette against the wall on nights with moonlight and bright springnights. Right before I fell asleep the closet got eyes and started to hiss.
– It`s just a closet, the adults said. That`s nothing to be afraid of?
Then they opened the doors and knocked in the wood to show in what extent it was a closet. As if it proves anything.
– You are not afraid of a closet? they asked.
– No, I replied.
But that was not true at all.
Now I know, of course I knew just as well as them that it was just a closet. But so what?
Listen, there is a reason to be afraid of a closet that gets eyes and starts to hiss already before you have fallen asleep. It was impossible to know what it was doing while you was really sleeping! It is pure stupidity to not be afraid when you have a crazy closet moving around in the room.
When I now hear, in the dark, a man with a wooden leg, walking back and forth in the attic all night; I don`t go to the attic to check.
I crawl under my blanket and stay there til the morning light comes and removes the scary being.I have always done that.
But I also know that if I had gone up there, and seen with my own eyes that there was no man with a wooden leg jumping around there, gone down again to bed and then heard the man with the wooden leg. Then I had known it was an invisible man with a wooden leg.
Tell me; what is so much better with that?
When the northern wind gasps
and give chills down your backs
there is no one so blind
as those who never mind
Sleep of reason; a beast existence
with the bitter flavour of ~ Indifference ~
© Sirenia 2012
Photo © Stelios Mpatz