Primavera arrived this week with her sun-golden hair, azure eyes, and fragrance of flowering cherries. She lit my heart. Today, however, she has withdrawn, hiding her countenance behind the overcast sky, shedding cold rain-tears, and silencing her voice of robin-songs as the wind howls the tale of enduring winter. I took a walk in the … Continue reading Shelley: If Winter Comes?
You walk among the spirits of flying dervishes and the whispers of their mystical joy on the anniversary of Rumi's death. How many lives have been loved, how many loves have been lived, how many flying hearts have turned and danced in his land since 17 December 1273? How many dances have been danced, how … Continue reading Rumi: Rubaiyat at Random
Ayer fue el primer día de tiempo otoñal: brisa fresca, casi fría; sol brillante dorando el follaje que empieza a mudar a tonos amarillos y naranja; cielo cian. Yo salía de nadar en el campus de Brooklyn College y apreciaba esta belleza, cuando un ángel negro sobrevoló la avenida Bedford. ¡Era un aguilucho norteño! Una … Continue reading Aguilucho norteño / Northern Harrier
I have been biking to the piers at Sunset Park to read Siddhartha while facing the upper bay of the Hudson River's estuary. I knew that Siddhartha's encounter with the river would be the tale's most moving chapter for me. I wanted to prepare for it by contemplating, as I read, the ebb and flow … Continue reading Siddhartha by the River
Daniel G. Campos 