Strangers

They were strangers

Souls who have been in different places at the same time

Or that in the same place but different times

But it was possible that all along

They were in the same place at the same time

But they don’t know

They may have not known…

They were strangers

Individuals who have seen the sunrise at different dawns

Or that a manifold of sunsets picturesque in basking colors of yellow and tangerine

But it was possible they were gazing at the same immense canvas all along

But they don’t know

They may have not known…

They were strangers or rather they were really not

Multitude of them have locked eyes in an instance or two

They were strangers or rather they were really not

He sets the path- the hearts determine.

NightFall

She watched in agony as the sun slowly sets in vast space

Night is creeping in as the light hideously fades before her

Stream of animosity grew as she reluctantly crawl to bed

Countless moments as this feel more than a solitary escape

From the everyday grinding-

Not a retreat from the preoccupations of the day

Like living in the confines where every breaking;

Every shattering – is nothing but a hush

Where bareness meets vulnerability

Where something surreal suddenly becomes so mundane

Where every dreaming is waking...

Her eyelids flutter with the flickering light from the lamp

She held herself under the wraps; battling herself to sleep

The silence of the night is deafening

She yearns for daybreaks- for sunrise

When the rays’ warmth greets her with a kiss

Where the sheen is reflective of the surface

Where every waking is life...

Restless

Caught in the meshes of surging tears


Snuffling at every breathe


Weltering in this moment of twinge


And I’m restless…




When this heart’s utterance


Is louder than the shrilling sound of the wind


When the chilliness is trouncing


And I’m restless…

Words

It takes more than the "hurting" to be able to learn. In the process, we are hurt because we refuse to learn.

Life is a big maze with unending streams of choices- should i go this way or the other? should i run or walk? should i battle the rain or wait until it no longer pours?

What is scary is not that illusions appear real but that what seems so real are but illusions-

It's waking that makes dreams just figments... But it's dreaming that makes each slumbering a whole new experience everytime.

Sometimes all I see are just silhouettes- shadowed contours; that no matter how I want to embrace the form, I cannot; that no matter how I want to hold the figure, I won’t; but then as soon as the hollows are filled with utter light or darkness- the silhouettes fade with it...

We cannot be faulted for something we did right; in the end, it is only ourselves to blame for something we did wrong.

Don’t expect others to complete you. Make yourself whole- others cannot always fill what you lack. A heart can only give the fullness of its beating when it’s intact. Mend the pieces when shattered- fear not of unsightly scars. A heart that sees beyond the disfigurements is worthy.

At the end of the day, how you treat yourself is as important as how you treat others. Love should not make you inferior; it should not make you feel less of a person than you are.

Trust your heart. Stop making rationalizations to justify everything. More often than not, you know the answer.

We cannot be faulted for something we did right; In the end, it is only ourselves to blame for something we did wrong.

Make amends with your past- nothing is more liberating...Continue to tread the right path, though gravelly and be prepared to walk sometimes barefooted.

Sometimes what hurts the most is not that we do not know- but that we do know and have always known. It's when silence speaks louder than any words ever uttered.

Everyday, we have choices and upon those choices we decide. We cannot be always in the middle. We cannot be always in between.

We are like kids playing the musical chairs. We dance. We wish that the music won't stop. We dread that when it does, that moment we had to rush and find a place. The music is the realm where we would always want to be. As long as the music keeps on playing, we worry not. But then at some point the music has to stop and we have to find that spot.

Sometimes we resent life for what it has not given us. In deeper reflection, we realized that not everything we have wanted, we needed. Whatever we have right at this moment is always something to be grateful for. Even the littlest thing. Even that which may be hurting.

Trust that wherever your heart is, there you'll be... Trust that whatever you have found, even if it may not be exactly what you have searched for, is the perfect piece...

When we are loved inspite of ourselves, we need no masks to cover the flaws. Only those who understand can see beauty behind imperfections. Only those who know how to embrace can feel the warmth beyond the seemingly cold stature.

Let life take its normal course. Worry not for the things you cannot control. Sometimes patiently waiting for the flower in its full bloom is worthwhile. God has a way of weaving the thread together in His Time. Prayers coupled with positivity always play a role. Slow down and make the most out of every moment.

Some say they are like walking in an unlit room and trying to find that corner where they are safe, that corner where they can stay until the light comes up. But then again in the process, they bumped into things and some may tripped on objects and the next thing they know they will hit the ground with a loud thud. This is what you call uncertainty.

We are cruising the sea of life. Sometimes the currents are too strong that almost capsize our vessels. We call upon Him to calm the wind- to ease the ripples of the waters. But then again, we continue to sail with each time being a new adventure.

Behind is a Reason

Wake from your dream
Live today as if tomorrow won’t come
Regret not what has already been done
You’ll know that behind is a reason

Wake from your dream

Love today and tomorrow will come
Learn from the slips and falls
You’ll know that behind is a reason

Dream and when you wake up
Wipe those tears away
Let not any pain remain
And you’ll find the reason

White Flag

Raise not the white flag
Life is a battlefield
We are soldiers in combat
Armored or not

Raise not the white flag
Call out His name
Weep when you bleed
Lean against His Wall

Raise not the white flag
Wounds are of your gallantry
Gashes are of your intrepidness
Tears are of your fortitude

Raise not the white flag
When twilight befalls
Seek refuge in His haven
Then tomorrow is dawning

Untitled

What good is the sun when the flower has withered?
As it was put to the shade and forgotten…
What good is the moon when it hides its face?
At times when nights are darkest...

What good is the wind when all it does is blow so hard?
That stripped you- leaving you bare and disheveled…
What good are the rivers and streams?
When waters have stopped flowing as the soil has become parched…

What good are the hands that clasp not?
Those that know not how to cling and hold…
What good are the eyes that see not?
Those though not as brilliant are still pure gems…

But good is a heart even with jagged edges
That risks putting an imperfect piece into his
And good is a heart even with deep gouges
That risks ripping a part of his to fit into another’s

Red and Gold

I remember that day...
When you first came
Not the usual cavalier with the armor
No horses, nor swords
Devoid of haughtiness

I remember that day…
When you first held my hand
It was right before Him in that sacred place
Warmth cloaked us
As if there is some Greater Hand

I remember that day…
When words of affection were spoken
As if that moment, with the stars and the moon conspired
That moment as if the whole world stopped
Just to hear what is not being said

I remember that day…
We stride to places we had only imagined
Then we slid the slippery road sometimes
The rain poured out relentlessly
The cold wind blew our way

I remember that day…
Always, everytime…

Let Me

Let me tell You with a humble heart how grateful I am
For each night before I go to sleep when in silence I speak Your name
For each day that I wake up when I can feel the thumping of this heart
This I know I am still alive

Let me tell You with a humble heart that all that I am is You
For each drop of tear that I shed, You are more than pierced a thousand times
For each time I bear the burden, You have carried me then most of the time
This I know I am more than alive

Let me tell You with a humble heart how I long to see Your face

That when the angels come, I will stand before You

That when the time is up, I wanted to see that light

This I know I will always be alive

Silhouette

You asked me-
What if I don’t have wings anymore and can’t fly; how will we be able to see the world?
I answered-
I will walk with you; we may not see all the grandeur but we will discover the littlest things as we pave that road.

You asked me-
What if you get tired of walking? What if the road gets rocky and steep?
I answered-
Would you carry me? Would you find us a place to rest our tired feet so we can withstand the strains of the earth?

You asked me-
What if you just walk away? What if you feel like this road leads to nowhere?
I answered-
Grab my hand. Do not let go. Turning away for a moment does not mean walking away.
This road is long, isn’t it too early to say that at the end of this is a dead-end?

Then I asked you-
What if distance come in between and I cannot walk with you in the same pace?
Will you wait and meet me there?
I looked at you-
There was silence. Then you uttered, Yes- even if you’ll lose your way. You will find me there.

Stand there still

Stand there still- amidst the chaos
Let not the unruly world shake you
Rest your feet when it hurts
Lean your back against this wall

Stand there still- amidst the confusion
Let not the trepidation of the future weaken you
Shawl yourself when it gets chilly
Sit once in a while if you may

Stand there still- Don’t hide
The stars has not yet appeared on sight
Stand there still- Don’t cry
Let tomorrow unveil itself

Photograph

If only life is a photograph
That you can freeze that moment
And hold it in your hands
That moment when you are at your happiest

If only life is a photograph
That you can capture all that there is
And post upon the walls
That moment when even black and white also equates to red and blue

If only life is a photograph
That you can edit and restore
That which is even timeworn or dilapidated
That moment when you are tainted or blemished

If only life is a photograph
That you can manually control the outcome of exposures
That you can dictate the angle, the depth, the mood
That moment of indecisions and skepticisms- about life and what is to come

But life is a photograph after all
There will be no shots without the one making it…

A Tale

There is always a story- a story behind everything that is seen; a story behind everything that is heard; a story behind everything that is felt.

Sometimes what appear to be beautiful are only those that are pleasing to the eyes. Sometimes what appears to be a great song is only that which is being played over and over. Sometimes what appear to be genuine are only those gems shining brilliantly.

There is always a story- how the coin got to the ground; how the flower withered; how the piece of paper got to the trash.

There is always a story- Something that we know the truth about and something that we would never know the truth. There was action behind the fact. And there was intention.

There is always a story- the truth is things are always taken as is. No questions ask- people ran away without turning heads. No words are spoken- people create walls to shield hurts. Reality is buried. Only the memory lingers.

The Leaf

I saw a tree whose leaves have all fallen
It seemed like age has taken its toll
Or is it just the season?

I came to wonder
What force is responsible?
Is it the wind, whose blowing might have caused it to be detached from the branches?
Is it the tree, which might not have held the leaves tightly and just let it go?
Is it the leaf itself, which has not clung onto the branches enough to withstand the wind?
Is it just the changing of the season, which spelled its destiny?

Black and White Love

It is the voice, that even in silence it speaks
It is the thought, that even in distance it reminisces
It is the compassion, that even in transgression it forgives
It is the intimacy, that even in solitude it accompanies
It is the serenity, that even in perplexity it understands
It is the warmth, that even in cold evenings it embraces

It is the language that some could not speak
It is the memory that many would just forgo
It is the reminder that once you wronged him
It is the closeness that some have mistaken it to be
It is the quietness that a lot would just give it up
It is the heat that sometimes would melt hearts