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Jana

I am here for Friends and Networking

About Me

One of the most important things for me now is trying to develop as a person and a poet, to love All and be of service, to live my life in God/Guru, to know the Self. Here is a poem I came across in an International Yoga Teachers Association journal:nitya darshan (permanent divine vision)/Heart aches at the separation,/ but soul knows your omnipresence./Eyes roam the hills seeking/ your vision,/ but I drink of your nectar/ in the wind through the trees./Hands stretch out to grasp/ your elusive form,/ but with silent reverence/ you are ever in my heart./Ears strain for the sound of/ your voice,/ but you whisper to me through/ each person's words./Voice sings in love of/ your name,/ but the flute of your guidance/ is beyond sound./Thoughts follow the echo of/ your words,/ but the spirit soars high in/ blissful remembrance./Peace, Bliss and Joy, - Jana........................................................ .. BY THE EDGE/Sit by the edge of dawn and/the sun will rise for you./Sit by the edge of night and/the stars will shine for you./Sit by the edge of the/stream and the nightingale/will sing for you./Sit by the edge of silence/and God will speak to you./ by Vivekananda................................................ A POEM BY PETREA KING/ Ready or not, someday it will all come to an end. There will be no/more sunrises,no minutes, hours or days. All things you/collected, whether treasured or forgotten, will pass to someone else./Your wealth, fame and temporal power will shrivel to irrelevance./It will not matter what you owned or what you were owed./Your grudges, resentments,frustrations, and jealousies will finally/disappear. So,too, your hopes, ambitions, plans and to do lists/will expire. The wins and losses that once seemed so/important will fade away./It won't matter where you came from, or on what side of the tracks/you lived, at the end. It won't matter whether you were beautiful or/brilliant. Even your gender and skin colour will be irrelevant./So what will matter? How will the value of your days be measured?/What will matter is not what you bought, but what you built; not/what you got, but what you gave. What will matter is not your/success, but your significance. What will matter is not what you/learned but what you taught. What will matter is every act of/integrity, compassion, courage or sacrifice that enriched, empowered/or encouraged others to emulate your example./What will matter is not your competence, but your character./What will matter is not how many people you knew, but how/many will feel a lasting loss when you're gone./What will matter are not your memories, but the memories that live in those who loved you. What will matter is how long you will be remembered, by whom and for what./Living a life that matters doesn't happen by accident.It's not a matter/of circumstance but of choice. Choose to live a life that matters. (by Petrea King, published in the (Australia) International Yoga Teachers Journal Oct-Dec 2008)

My Blog

HONG KONG LOVE poem

HONG KONG LOVE Hong Kong early morning, serene, this scene as a harbor slowly stirs, like a snake uncoils to bask in day sun; two solitary birds fall and rise in a perfect  tune; in dance divine their...
Posted by on Sun, 31 May 2009 20:36:00 GMT

A FRIEND TURNS SIXTY poem

A FRIEND TURNS SIXTY Rain falls, the day is coldnearly winter, Gemini timeyet again dear friend,birthday day dreaming.A rainbow has archedover the city and a moment of sun glows as I start outto the g...
Posted by on Sun, 31 May 2009 02:49:00 GMT

WALKING THROUGH PYRMONT PARK

WALKING THROUGH PYRMONT PARK The north westerly whips the tips of the waves and souls searchwithin for some stillness, to communein the chill of late autumn afternoon.In this restlessness the airis cl...
Posted by on Thu, 14 May 2009 02:54:00 GMT

SUNDAY MORNING ON BANK STREET

SUNDAY MORNING ON BANK STREET Early morning rowers now load their boatson roofs of cars, still wet oars glistening,the nights rain lies fresh on Bank Street. Clean air embraces my being in the quietn...
Posted by on Tue, 05 May 2009 02:12:00 GMT

LOVE IS A LONGING poem

LOVE IS A LONGING Autumn leaves are falling, and the wind now talks of winters early dawningas I make my way to the waters edge.The path is dappled and ever movingas late afternoon sun silhouettes b...
Posted by on Sun, 26 Apr 2009 00:38:00 GMT

THINKING ABOUT HANGZHOU poem

THINKING ABOUT HANGZHOUThinking about West Lake, still air of winter sits on surface.Echoes sound from a slow motor boat, or lilt of a waveas an oar thrusts through water, in time it reaches the shore...
Posted by on Sat, 11 Apr 2009 02:54:00 GMT

SUMMER WALKS

SUMMER WALKS.. ..Summer walks, shade walks through time,lost in lifes rhyme; the days spentwaiting for the north east windin late afternoon, sunset... ..Days spent long moving behindthe sun over the ...
Posted by on Mon, 16 Feb 2009 00:45:00 GMT

LONENESS

LONENESS A breeze stirs leaves of the palms, in unison fronds sway, quiet rustling like the sound of the sea moving through me, no body see, invisible in loneness. Sunday palms. Summer heat, bright ...
Posted by on Sun, 28 Dec 2008 12:30:00 GMT

COMFORT

COMFORT How to soothe your soul, your heart in pain, life's path has devastation lain. Let God's angel descend and bring a candle of comfort, think only of a golden glow that    &nbs...
Posted by on Thu, 25 Dec 2008 18:02:00 GMT

A poem dedicated to the last car boat leaving Sydney harbour

I live in Sydney opposite a quay terminal known as Glebe Island on the harbour near the CBD. It is a large highly specialized area dedicated to the loading, housing and  unloading of new cars fro...
Posted by on Sat, 15 Nov 2008 21:34:00 GMT