View allAll Photos Tagged Longing
deep inside my black cold heart there's a longing for your love.
When you get older, plainer, saner
Will you remember all the danger
We came from?
Burning like embers, falling, tender
Longing for the days of no surrender
Years ago
And will you know
Let's raise a glass
Or two
To all the things I've lost on you
Ho, ooh
Tell me are they lost on you?
if you like to know where a certain product shown in my picture is from, please feel free to ask.
Was playing around with an old photo tonight. Added text to the photo. When I see old boats rotting away, it gives a meloncholy feeling. I wonder the history and stories the old wooden vessel could tell.
61°27'45"N 149°43'23"W
When she was looking at the door with heavy heart.. <3
🎧 : Stop Waiting - Cigarettes After Sex
Thanks for viewing.
On Christmas, can you remember that moment of perfect anticipation just as each gift was beginning to be unwrapped?
This is Clara and my grandson Ryfry (my family bestows the weirdest nicknames on each other) caught in one of those precious spans of time.
Credits:
Body: Lara from Maitreya
Head: Uma new from Catwa
Skin, Freckles and Makeup: Bobbi for Catwa new from Glam Affair at Kustom9
Shape: Millie for Catwa Uma Head new from Allure
Rings: Nika new from Supernatural at eBENTO
Hair: Teri new group gift from Sintiklia
Dress: Taylor new from Avale at Tres Chic (more in next post)
Sunglasses: Mia new from Nanika at Tres Chic
one more view from my tulips I purchased last month...i am jealous of those who have them blooming in their gardens....we are getting more snow this evening! Even past its prime, this one was still a pretty sight! explored March 23 #447
noun:
a feeling of wanting something or someone very much:
~She gazed at him, her eyes full of longing.
~a longing look
~a longing for his touch
© Leanne Boulton, All Rights Reserved
Street portrait of Anna, from my '100 Strangers' project, taken in Glasgow, Scotland.
Colour re-edit of a shot taken in June 2019. Longing for a time where I can get back out onto the streets to photograph people once again, safe from the pandemic that has caused so much death and suffering across the world.
Stay safe everyone and have a great weekend of photography wherever you are!
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
I haven't even had the camera out in weeks....
"Bare branches of each tree
on this chilly January morn
look so cold so forlorn.
Gray skies dip ever so low
left from yesterday's dusting of snow.
Yet in the heart of each tree
waiting for each who wait to see
new life as warm sun and breeze will blow,
like magic, unlock springs sap to flow,
buds, new leaves, then blooms will grow."
- Nelda Hartmann, January Morn
Second fragment in the series: The Wind's Beloved, click the tag to view all.
(took the picture inside of a sphere which weren't set fullbright, so it reflects the windlight.)
“I want to know
if you know
how to melt into that fierce heat of living
falling toward
the center of your longing.”
― David Whyte
© Darlene Bushue - All of my images are protected by copyright and may not be used on any site, blog, or forum without my permission.
Longing to be back in the mountains, so thought I'd revisit the archives from our trip last summer to the Canadian Rockies. This one was taken along the shore of Moraine Lake shortly after sunrise in Banff National Park.
4 weeks from today, we will be on a plane to Alaska; YAY!!!!! Have a fantastic weekend, and as always, thanks for all your visits and comments :-)
a bit of my garden in June last year. Too early for some of the flowers to be blooming but just giving you a glimpse into my back yard. Have a great day everyone!!
“I want morning and noon and nightfall with you. I want your tears, your smiles, your kisses...the smell of your hair, the taste of your skin, the touch of your breath on my face. I want to see you in the final hour of my life...to lie in your arms as I take my last breath.”
~Lisa Kleypas~
“The feelings that hurt most, the emotions that sting most, are those that are absurd - The longing for impossible things, precisely because they are impossible; nostalgia for what never was; the desire for what could have been; regret over not being someone else; dissatisfaction with the world’s existence. All these half-tones of the soul’s consciousness create in us a painful landscape, an eternal sunset of what we are.”
~ Fernando Pessoa~
“It seems to me we can never give up longing and wishing while we are still alive. There are certain things we feel to be beautiful and good, and we must hunger for them.”
~George Eliot~
Longing for you....