wanderingio

Hello! I am new to swap bot, and excited to join the scene :)

ASD spectrum, she/her, highly sensitive soul, resides in the library, kitchen, mountains, finding creativity during a very difficult trial.

I like ~~ handwritten things, the weirder the better ~~ hand-drawn things, appreciate any attempt ~~ prints with illustrations, patterns, more than photos ~~ philosophical depth (e.g. what is faith?) ~~ emotional depth (e.g. share your darkest secret)

A swap I really wanted to join asked for a minimum of 350 words on my profile, so here's my attempt being one of few words: by sharing some of my favorite poems with you! All are from Stray Birds By Rabindranath Tagore.

11 SOME unseen fingers, like idle breeze, are playing upon my heart the music of the ripples.

14 THE mystery of creation is like the darkness of night--it is great. Delusions of knowledge are like the fog of the morning.

15 DO not seat your love upon a precipice because it is high.

16 I SIT at my window this morning where the world like a passer-by stops for a moment, nods to me and goes.

17 THESE little thoughts are the rustle of leaves; they have their whisper of joy in my mind.

20 I CANNOT choose the best.

The best chooses me.

22 THAT I exist is a perpetual surprise which is life.

25 MAN is a born child, his power is the power of growth.

26 GOD expects answers for the flowers he sends us, not for the sun and the earth.

27 THE light that plays, like a naked child, among the green leaves happily knows not that man can lie.

28 O BEAUTY, find thyself in love, not in the flattery of thy mirror.

29 MY heart beats her waves at the shore of the world and writes upon it her signature in tears with the words, "I love thee."

30 "MOON, for what do you wait?"

"To salute the sun for whom I must make way."

31 THE trees come up to my window like the yearning voice of the dumb earth.

32 HIS own mornings are new surprises to God.

33 LIFE finds its wealth by the claims of the world, and its worth by the claims of love.

35 THE bird wishes it were a cloud. The cloud wishes it were a bird.

36 THE waterfall sings, "I find my song, when I find my freedom."

37 I CANNOT tell why this heart languishes in silence.

It is for small needs it never asks, or knows or remembers.