StrongIndependentWoman's Weblog

Not because I love spanish. Not because I cannot find my own words. But because His sign is engraved in my heart.

„A long time ago, in the underground realm, where there are no lies or pain, there lived a Princess who dreamed of the human world. She dreamed of blue skies, soft breeze, and sunshine. One day, eluding her keepers, the Princess escaped. Once outside, the brightness blinded her and erased every trace of the past from her memory. She forgot who she was and where she came from. Her body suffered cold, sickness, and pain. Eventually, she died. However, her father, the King, always knew that the Princess’ soul would return, perhaps in another body, in another place, at another time. And He would wait for her, until He drew His last breath, until the world stopped turning…”

He built me a labyrinth, a path-way, so I can find Him again. And here I am, building the labyrinth of what I am, so He might find me. This is the map of me.

Moana (From the Maori word for sea: the ocean itself.)

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<<Toate îsi au vremea lor, si fiecare lucru de sub ceruri îsi are ceasul lui.

Nasterea îsi are vremea ei, si moartea îsi are vremea ei; sãditul îsi are vremea lui, si smulgerea celor sãdite îsi are vremea ei.

Uciderea îsi are vremea ei, si tãmãduirea îsi are vremea ei; dãrâmarea îsi are vremea ei, si zidirea îsi are vremea ei; plânsul îsi are vremea lui, si râsul îsi are vremea lui; bocitul îsi are vremea lui, si jucatul îsi are vremea lui; aruncarea cu pietre îsi are vremea ei, si strângerea pietrelor îsi are vremea ei; îmbrãtisarea îsi are vremea ei, si depãrtarea de îmbrãtisãri îsi are vremea ei; cãutarea îsi are vremea ei, si pierderea îsi are vremea ei; pãstrarea îsi are vremea ei, si lepãdarea îsi are vremea ei; ruptul îsi are vremea lui, si cusutul îsi are vremea lui; tãcerea îsi are vremea ei, si vorbirea îsi are vremea ei; iubitul îsi are vremea lui, si urâtul îsi are vremea lui; rãzboiul îsi are vremea lui, si pacea îsi are vremea ei.>>

Acum e vremea mea.