The dance between darkness and light will always remain— the stars and the moon will always need the darkness to be seen, the darkness will just not be worth having without the moon and the stars.”

- C. JoyBell C

www.youtube.com/watch?v=yYPJ_vqM2b8

Have a lovely start of the week xxx

I had been wrapping presents and Milu, like most cats, was enjoying sitting in one of the empty bags.

The story enfolds below - 3 more photos

“Surrounded by darkness yet enfolded in light...”

― Alan Brennert, "Moloka'i"

is not gold—

Often have you heard that told.

Many a man his life hath sold

But my outside to behold.

Gilded tombs do worms enfold.

Had you been as wise as bold,

Young in limbs, in judgment old,

Your answer had not been inscrolled

Fare you well. Your suit is cold—

__________________________

Contrast-treated snapshot. Featuring another RK Pose which can be found in the mainstore.

On the floating, shapeless oceans

I did all my best to smile

til your singing eyes and fingers

drew me loving into your eyes.

And you sang "Sail to me, sail to me;

Let me enfold you."

Song to the siren - This mortal coil

Dedicated to Livorno

A Blessing for the Inward Way

BY TRACY SHAW

May you learn to dwell

Below the surface of the days

At home with the ebb and flow of

Your own heart’s tides.

May you find the womb space at the center of your Life,

There grow wise in the sacred rhythm

Of filling and emptying,

Emptying and filling.

There, held safe,

May you surrender to the unknown

As completely as the dark moon

Empties herself into the secret embrace of her Beloved, the Sun.

There may you cherish hope of renewal

As tenderly as the crescent moon

Cradles the dark in the curve of her arm,

Enfolding, quickening with life new born.

And may you always open to the flow of love

As voluptuously as the moon at full,

Until filled, overflowing, you pour

Love’s gifts out into the world.

So may you grow ever more intimate

With the inward way, the deepening way,

Where filling is emptying, emptying is filling ~

At one with the mystery, at one.

The relationship of each moment in the whole to all the others is implied by its total content: the way in which it ‘holds’ all the others enfolded within it.

-David Bohm

♫♫

This day before dawn I ascended a hill and looked at the

crowded heaven,

and I said to my spirit, when we become the enfolders of those

orbs and the pleasure and knowledge of every thing in them,

shall we be filled and satisfied then?

And my spirit said No, we level that lift to pass and continue beyond.

Walt Whitman, Leaves of grass

The lovely lake there in Banff National Park ... as evening enfolds.

The principle labour of the Christian is to believe that divine love is the breadth and length and height and depth, and that there is simply nothing above, below or beyond it. It is our home; it enfolds us and is our utmost security both in this life and in death and beyond.

--Essence of Prayer, Ruth Burrows, OCD

Thought it was about time I did another dictionary entry, I've not done one for ages.

Read more on my Blog :-)

View On Black

The light of God surrounds me.

The love of God enfolds me.

The power of God protects me.

The Presence of God watches over me

Wherever I am God is!

some enigmatic parts of that evening.

enfold me in your embrace

hold me close

Billy Idol - White Wedding

www.youtube.com/watch?v=AAZQaYKZMTI

“When love beckons to you follow him, Though his ways are hard and steep. And when his wings enfold you yield to him, Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you. And when he speaks to you believe in him, Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden. For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning. Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun, So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth......

But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure, Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor, Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears. Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.

Love possesses not nor would it be possessed; For love is sufficient unto love. And think not you can direct the course of love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course. Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself."

But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires: To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night. To know the pain of too much tenderness. To be wounded by your own understanding of love; And to bleed willingly and joyfully.”

― Kahlil Gibran, Le Prophète

Blog Post: InsomNia @ Fashion Dazzle

sllorinovo.blogspot.com/2017/08/insomnia-fashion-dazzle.html

This reminds me of romance sooo an appropriate song. This song was recorded first in 1946 and several artists...this is a fave for me..Miss Etta James..a great R&B artist...although Reba Mc Entire is a second...

www.imeem.com/people/xR5IpD/music/ozBtGi5s/etta_james_sun...

Sunday, Sunday, Sunday kind of loooove

music

Idk, I just loved how it looked on sl, and then in my PS, so I thought I would share. there will be other versions of this pose/pic but, for now, here we go!

and you sang "sail to me, sail to me;

let me enfold you..."

textured with 'bokeh drops' by lenoirrrtextures

www.flickr.com/photos/lenoirrrtextures/5363349534/in/phot...

from the series 'enfolded'

www.flickr.com/photos/casualties/sets/72157607356196448/w...

i want to blossom without missing any wonder along the way. it matters not to me if those wonders may sometimes seem like upside-down dreams. at the end of the road, i want to be able to turn around, look back, and marvel at the person that i was meant to be.

January 2010 - next trip to the Philippines - only 332 days away.

VIEW LARGE ON BLACK

I can hardly wait

to hold you

enfold you

never enough

render your heart to me

Xanadu or Shangdu, the idyllic summer capital of Kublai Khan's Mongolian empire. It was first described by Marco Polo in 1275, and made most famous to Westerners in Coleridge's famous poem "Kubla Khan". The opening stanza could describe this infra red scene:

"In Xanadu did Kubla Khan

A stately pleasure-dome decree:

Where Alph, the sacred river, ran

Through caverns measureless to man

Down to a sunless sea.

So twice five miles of fertile ground

With walls and towers were girdled round;

And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,

Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;

And here were forests ancient as the hills,

Enfolding sunny spots of greenery."

Alas, we are still in Tasmania.

She dreams and sleeps

In soft surroundings she keeps,

Enfolded in comfort and repair

A tender light keeps her there.

You asked to hear her song,

but green only lasts for so long

One day the leaves will turn brown

and she will dawn a new nightgown.

Come wake her up with a careful whisper,

She may lift her weary head

Come wake her up and remember,

All the words that were never said.

I'm taking a break from O'l Betsy today. I was inspired by this flower and from a newer song from Toad the Wet Sprocket. Thanks for your support. I hope you enjoy the beautiful life you were given. Happy Sunday Flickr Friends!

www.youtube.com/watch?v=qyeKHoPwg3Y&list=RDqyeKHoPwg3...

Greenly and fair in the lands of the sun,

The vines of the gourd and the rich melon run,

And the rock and the tree and the cottage enfold,

With broad leaves all greenness and blossoms all gold - John Greenleaf Whittier

Witherwood Thicket is now open to the public and we look forward to your visit ---> maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Frogmore/179/38/41

Featured in my photo Forest Log Steps and Mushrooms from Rebourne now available at Anthem ---> maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Anthem/172/85/1114

Come Little Children....♪

The light of God surrounds me.

The love of God enfolds me.

The power of God protects me.

The presence of God watches over me.

Wherever I am, God is.

The Norwegian Opera House rests like an iceberg in the city. The mass of stone and glass rises from the fjord that cuts deep into the Scandinavian landscape and ultimately docks in Bjørvika.

The ultramodern building by Snøhetta Architects climbs upwards in slanting planes. The enormous roof serves as a public plaza. In good weather, the bright white Carrara marble cladding provides sufficient grip for leisurely climbing upward step by step. At the top, a panoramic view of Oslo and beyond enfolds.

series : enfolded #11

Evening enfolds over the canyon and hoodoos.

enfolded 04

The light of God surrounds me.

The love of God enfolds me.

The power of God protects me.

The presence of God watches over me.

Wherever I am God is.

These delightful raindrops on the rose in a flowerpot outside my front door mean it rained the night before. In the desert that is a miracle❣️

Tags:

Balance "Macro Mondays" Morning "Pink and White" Raindrops Rose Alhambra Flowerpot Garden "Central Tucson" Tucson Arizona "Sonoran Desert" USA "Southwestern USA" "American Southwest" "North America" "Planet Earth" "Star Sol" "Solar System" "Milky Way Galaxy" "Spiral Arm"

IMG_4412 V2

You keep showing me the green grass

It’s the path I must follow

The colour of renewal

The one thing I will always know

Is that you shimmering beside me?

It is you but not you

But I am comforted by your presence

I know that I am not alone

I can see my feet in the grass

Moving as if to go forwards

But I don’t really need them

Just a thought propels me onwards

Your light starts to enfold me

Keeping me from any fear

I had started to wonder

If any of this was really there

Now I know it was always you

There all my life waiting so patiently

Walking down the green path

Coming forwards to collect me

*****

This work for Easter Sunday was based on a vision I had while sitting in the church of Ripe, a village in Sussex beneath the Downs near where I live. I had gone that day to take some photographs of this beautiful place, one I had visited previously in my life from time to time. As I sat in the church the light came in the East Window and lit up the church. As I gazed down to the Altar and this light the church around me started to disappear, with the central aisle changing to a green path of grass. I rose to walk down it, but then I seemed to float instead. My feet seemed to belong to somebody else!

I became aware of a presence with me, and I really wanted to continue on down that path, but gradually it faded, and I found myself sitting back on the pew.

I took it as a beautiful gift, of reassurance at a difficult time, and one that I really needed. When I looked at my watch I realised half an hour had passed from when I sat down. At the time, the vision felt like just a few moments.

I eventually came out of the church, and the sunlight was so beautiful, with this dappled light under the yew trees. So I took some shots of this beautiful Cup that is sharing its life with me at the moment, and this is the result. The cup is placed on the tombstone of one of the first vicars of this church parish, dated from the 13th Century. Later, when I came home I wrote the poem, because I could not get the vision out of my mind, and to this day, I can still see it clearly.

The combination of the Cup and the beautiful light in this shot will always remind me of that wonderful vision. The Cup has a presence all of its own, and the gift of renewal is a promise that will be fulfilled when we walk along the Green Path on this Easter Day.

This work completes my Mini-Series for Easter and I would like to give my Best Wishes and love to all my friends and followers on Flickr, who have helped and supported me with such generosity and kindness, this work is for you. May Easter bring you peace, and may your God go with you. Shelley xx

*****

I have paired this work with Regina Spektor’s music track “The Call”, from the film “Prince Caspian”, an adaptation of the book from the Narnia Chronicles by C S Lewis. One day we will all hear the call to return. Please find link below.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=pCEUpVukAe8

And if you would like to see more of my work, have a look at my website at:

www.shelleyturnerpoetpix.com

UPDATE...21st April 2025.

Many are reflecting on the death of His Holiness Pope Francis today, myself included. I can only admire with wonderment a man who was obviously determined to celebrate and share the sadness and joy of Easter with everybody on this earth one more time before he had to go. And Pope Francis passed on the day after the celebrations of Christ's Resurrection, so as not to take away the importance of Christ's Sacrifice and His Return.

With this selfless act Pope Francis has shown us the deep and abiding love he had for his saviour, Jesus, and the commitment he had to bring the love and compassion of Jesus amongst us all, where he felt Christ's teachings should always be shared; everyday people, ordinary people trying to live their lives in often very difficult circumstances, and this is the legacy that His Holiness will leave; that from humble beginnings we can all make a difference.

I am sure that this morning, Pope Francis was not alone when he walked along the Green Path. His God came to collect him, and walked with him through the dappled sunshine.

All my love as always to my friends and followers, and anybody else who finds themselves on this page, seeking validation or comfort, remember you are not alone.

Shelley xx

UPDATE 25th April 2025..

Dear Friends and Followers, I don't know what has happened this week - well, I do know, I've missed most of it with an unwelcome guest of a rotten migraine. I get them from time to time, as some of you know; and as all sufferers of them know to their cost, they can be pretty wretched, which this one was. I am still recovering..so please accept my apologies for my lateness in replying to you and my usual delightful chatty insights on your work! The sense of humour is obviously returning, so I will get to you when I can!

I will hold blessings and thoughts of all of you with me until then, and tomorrow as a great man of faith is laid to rest. Whatever God you follow, go in peace my friends.

Love Shell x

"On the floating shipless oceans

I did all my best to smile

'til your singing eyes and fingers

Drew me loving to your isle

And you sang, sail to me, sail to me, let me enfold you

Here I am, here I am, waiting to hold you"

The song: youtu.be/HFWKJ2FUiAQ

White River Trail, Mount Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest, Washington

I had hoped to get out to Mount Rainier National Park today since I have not had a chance to visit my favorite mountain since early June, and I was sorely in need of some time in nature. Unfortunately a wind shift brought an influx of wildfire smoke to western Washington this weekend and though I headed out early in an attempt to sneak in a quick hike before that happened, by the time I reached the park, the mountains were obscured with a thick layer of smoke, and the acrid smell and taste of it assailed my senses the moment I stepped out of my car. At that point I knew I would not be hiking in the mountains today.

So I headed back down toward the White River valley, an area which had seemed less smoky on the drive up, and offers multiple trail options. Arriving at one of the trailheads, there was only a slight tinge of smoke in the air, so I laced up my hiking boots and headed off into the woods. I spent the next couple of hours rambling around the trails there and letting the forest enfold me in its peace and comforting serenity. The forest light was especially lovely as it filtered gently through the layer of smoke and the canopy above, and since I had no particular destination to get to (other than ending up at the same trailhead where I had parked my car - which required some careful attention at the many trail junctions and loops!), I spent a lot of time admiring the captivating way it illuminated various parts of the trail. This pool of light among the shadows was one of my favorite spots.

"Prayer"

www.youtube.com/watch?v=3TN5ZTRl_4s

Let your arms enfold us

Through the dark of night

Will your angels hold us

Till we see the light

Hush, lay down your troubled mind

The day has vanished and left us behind

And the wind, whispering soft lullabies

Will soothe, so close your weary eyes

Let your arms enfold us

Through the dark of night

Will your angels hold us

Till we see the light

Sleep, angels will watch over you

And soon beautiful dreams will come true

Can you feel spirits embracing your soul

So dream while secrets of darkness unfold

Blog Post

sllorinovo.blogspot.com/2016/04/dream-while-secrets-of-da...

“The voice of the sea is seductive; never ceasing, whispering, clamoring, murmuring, inviting the soul to wander for a spell in the abysses of solitude; to lose itself in mazes of inward contemplation. The voice of the sea speaks to the soul. The touch of the sea is sensuous, enfolding the body in its soft, close embrace.”

~ Kate Chopin, The Awakening

"milk-white snow descends.

tumbling, twirling, twisting to the ground.

each flake glistens, a sparkle against the pewter-grey sky.

a world enfolded in silvery silence.

this, a moment of enchantment."

The Coal River valley was part of the territory of the Oyster Bay/Big River or Merrimeneer people. They were the largest of the Island’s nations and occupied much of central Tasmania from the Central Plateau to the east coast. The valley was a particularly benign environment for hunter-gatherers. The enfolding hills gave shelter from the more rigorous climate of the highlands. Repeated firing of the vegetation kept the grasslands clear of entangling undergrowth facilitating hunting for the abundant wallabies, emu and wombat. The land near the future site of Richmond was doubly valuable. It was the most southerly point where it was easy to ford the river on journeys to and from the east coast. The river provided water birds and a permanent supply of fresh water even in the driest summer. It was probably the site of semi-permanent summer camps from where hunting expeditions ranged across the nearby hills.

www.tasmaniashistoryhouse.com.au/richmond/

The dark and threatening skies in this pic evoke the darkness that now enfolds the United States, as represented by this monument that honors the men and women that defended this country when it was a democracy.

I came to an island adrift in the vastness, a sanctuary where silence is not absence but a living presence. It is the silence of my world, born of a quiet ache—the loss of her, once near, now vanished into the unseen. This hush gathers around me like twilight, mending what was broken, steadying what was restless, yet never erasing the shadow of longing.

Upon its shores, I kneel in the sand. My words are not merely spoken but breathed as prayers through trembling hands. The tide erases them, yet their essence lingers, carried into the sea’s eternal rhythm. And in that rhythm, I hear her voice, tender and unwavering:

She speaks through the Sea: “I have never left you. My breath moves in the waves, my love rests in the tide. Each crest carries my memory, each retreat my return. I hold your ache, and I give it back as calm. I am yours still.”

Mist rises from the island’s heart, drifting like a spirit across stone and grove. It enfolds me, and within its veil I feel her shadow walking beside me—her nearness pressing against my soul, her devotion woven into the air.

She whispers through the Mist: “I walk with you, unseen but near. I am the touch you cannot hold, the silence that still embraces. Loss is not emptiness— it is another way of being close. In my veil, I enfold you. You are mine, always.”

And then the sunset arrives—pale as the moon. It does not blaze with fire, but glows with quiet mercy, a silvered light softening the horizon. Gold fades into pearl, crimson into rose, violet into ash. In its pallor, I see her face in the sky, luminous and tender, her gaze woven into the evening hush.

She proclaims through the Pale Sunset: “I am remembrance, and I am yours. What was presence is now light, what was loss is now flame. Your words rise into me, and I crown them with stillness. Your ache is not a wound, but a passage. Through me, longing becomes peace, and silence becomes song. I love you still.”

And then, as twilight deepens, her voices gather together—sea, mist, and pale sunset speaking as one, yet carrying her devotion:

Her Chorus sings: “I cradle your loss, I hold your longing. I veil what is absent as nearness, I transfigure ache into light. In my hush, you are not alone. In my cycle, you are remade. I am with you, always.”.

Here, in the silence of my world, I am renewed. Twilight is not a fading, but a threshold. Sand, sea, mist, and pale sunset form a cycle, a myth of belonging where longing becomes peace. Concealed yet revealed, I stand at the island’s heart, listening as she walks beside me, her love woven into the island—and in that hush, I am remade.

Lost

Should I stand amid the breakers?

Now my foolish boat is leaning

Broken lovelorn on your rocks

Here I am ... Waiting to hold you

www.youtube.com/watch?v=HFWKJ2FUiAQ

流年真的似水，一去不返 ...

看過的風景也許还可以重来，而離去的人却再也不會回头。

任由你千思萬想，他除了偶然在你夢中彷徨，其余的时間都只是恍惚的印象。

© All rights reserved Anna Kwa. Please do not use this image on websites, blogs or any other media without my explicit written permission