THE BLOG

-- The Art of Words - The Words of Art --

Aug 05, 2022

My passion for writing is undying.

Words can save a life. A poem can mend a broken heart.

The combination of the hand manifesting what the mind and emotions are creating, and the impact this can all have, is beyond fascination.

Writing poems were part of me for many years.

And language is not just a string of sentences, but a limitless fountain of feelings and possibilities. Walking in and out of different languages, I dive into the world of different cultures, emotions and people. Once you have experienced this sensation, you would never want to go back to the boring world of a mono-language brain.

Hence, in here, you will find my blogs and texts on things that concern me in life. And I am welcoming you to take part in this world.

This blog is also very much about you:

Your mental and physical health. Your thoughts. Your emotions.

Because I want you to grow. For eternity.

We are all in this together. And there is no planet B.

You see, I am deeply concerned about Human Rights, the way we treat Mother Earth, and our fellow creatures of the animal kingdom.

By not treating them the way we would treat our brothers and sisters, we are harming ourselves to the extent of extension.

We want to see ourselves as separate from other elements and creature, but we are all One. Everything we do to others, we do to ourselves. And it is entirely up to us to create tonic and not toxic chemicals in our very systems.

Life is just a short breath.

Your decisions today will ultimately become the life you look back on some very few moments from now.

Hence, I want to start off with one of my favourite poems, written by an absolutely stunning poet.

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

- Robert Frost