Strength, wisdom, kindness —
They can only come to one
Who knows quietude.
Now that I’m back home in the house where I grew up, and living with my two sisters and a nephew and my son, it is not very often that I get to find some quiet time.
I am way busier now working from home compared to working full time in China during the last 17 years, which makes me treasure more those years of solitude and reflection.
Thankfully there’s gardening and visiting my tiny garden in the morning allows me some much needed quiet moments.
When kids your age were running,
You were just learning to walk.
When kids your age were talking,
You just uttered your first word.
When kids your age could bounce a ball
You just learned how to throw.
Don’t worry, son.
Life is a game
Not just for the fastest,
The strongest, or the smartest
But for the ones with the most patience as well.
And we have a lot of that stuff.
We’ll get there.
You’re not the kindest,
Nor the sweetest, gentlest one —
But you’re you — perfect!
Locked in by someone,
One desires freedom; locking
Oneself in — tragic.
Early morning rain
Kissing away last night’s sins —
Blessing this new day.
Unreachable — but this soul
In this deep darkness
Is hope and faith that I’ll find
You — my light, my guide.
Not a soul in sight,
No water to quench the thirst,
A bird sings — comfort!
A subtle, gentle touch,
A softly whispered secret —
A memory kept.
Stretching, bending lines,
Curves, graceful and lithe those limbs —
Quiet dance with time.
Your sweet smile, laughter —
Who knows why? I hope to see
What you see — someday.
My son has a very infectious smile and laughter. Most of the time though, we don’t know what makes him smile or laugh. We are just happy to see him happy.
Sometimes he makes me say, “dinosaur” and then, “roar!” And that’s enough to make him smile as he walks away from me.
If only our joys could be as simple.
The other day, I got a message from Ahmed asking if I could help promote the comic book he created which features a superhero with Autism. This project aims to spread awareness about Autism. It’s called The Epics of Enkidu. You can click the link to learn more about the project.
Like these solid blocks,
Colorful — the life you’ve lived.
Yet it was all a game.
Heart pounding, pounding
Wishing it had not ended,
That sweetest of dreams.
One wilting in thirst.
Early morning touch
Of the rain on soft petals —
Reminder of a kiss.
If I lose you now,
I’d rather have memories
Of you all erased.
Though I prefer to remember everything I’ve ever gone through — even embarrassing, painful ones, I can understand those who would rather forget.
A tiny detail
Often unnoticed, sometimes
Makes a thing complete.
Supple body, mind
These ephemeral presents —
Quickly lost in time.
Distance hardens not
The hearts that hear each other’s
Beating though apart.
May your love grow strong though this pandemic keeps you physically apart. ♥️🙏
One tries to be strong,
Facing this frightening storm —
Fearlessness is strength.
May you find the strength to face the storms in your life. 🙏🌹♥️
For this life, for love,
For the pain and the lessons —
This heart is grateful.
May your soul find peace,
May your memories of love
Come back, make you smile.
A flower, a book,
A walk by the lake, a look —
Memories — a list.
I’ve been long at sea,
Tossed by indifferent waves,
Then I see you — hope!
Oh how I long to be
Above you again, looking
Down. Proud. In rapture.
Storms have come and gone,
Yet you and I,here, still stand
Always one — a team.
Brazen you, you try
To open what’s long been shut —
The secret, hidden.
Not a boring sight,
No silly words. Everything
With you, is magic.
Not just this bleeding
Heart or this aching body —
Me. All of me — yours.
A once selfish soul
Wished death. But you came — your life,
This love — elixir!
I played a love song —
Melancholic melody —
Hoping your heart hears.
Simple scribbled word
On unpretentious paper —
A note makes one’s day.
It does not take much to put a smile on someone’s face — a very simple gesture of kindness or thoughtfulness can do that. A text message asking how somebody’s day went can make that person feel that someone cares. A flower picked from the garden to give a family member one is stuck at home with, can most likely brighten that person’s day.
We do not need to do something “big” to prove we care and make someone happy.
Sometimes a simple note on a Post-It can do the trick.
This music of us has risen
To a crescendo.
So deftly played by your hands —
Makes music of love.
In this unfriendly
And chaotic world of mine,
Your calm voice — music.
When love unites two,
In time Two won’t be enough.
Then there will be three.
Leaving or moving —
A new place, different faces —
One remains the same.
In the distance — sounds carried
By the morning breeze.
Thank you, Ann-Christine, for this week’s theme for the Lens-Artists Photo Challenge.
Have a lovely weekend!
Not the thousand miles
Between us dividing us —
Pride in a sad soul.
Though painfully slow
Almighty Time seems to pass,
You’ll surely get there.
Whether we like it or not, time goes by. And we’ll get to where we are supposed to be whether we like it or not.
We can’t stop Almighty Time from passing.
Discover Prompts, Day 16
A walk down the shore,
Cool breeze blowing — ocean scent
Leads to thoughts of you.—–
Discover Prompts, Day 15
At home with those whom one loves,
One dreams — solitude.
We love our family, and they love us too. But we miss being alone, and I’m sure they do too.
May you find time for quiet reflection.
Overtakes the weary soul,
Be still — till strength comes.
Have a lovely week !
Songs that made cry,
They remind me of the pain.
The heart hurts no more.
Leaves one wondering, waiting.
Slow or quick — time flies.
No ships, buses, trains;
Planes stop flying — quiet reigns.
A blessed Good Friday to all.
These thoughts, these wishes —
Unspoken yet deeply felt,
Towards you, they fly.
Come, you’ll find shelter
And warmth in my loving arms.
Here with me, you’re safe.
Fine purple petals
Gracefully fall from their tree
Masking homely earth.
In the midst of all
This life’s hustle and bustle —
Silence from within.
After spending a couple of hours marking papers in McDonald’s (I can’t work at home as I’m always tempted to do something else like doing laundry instead of marking papers!) I went to my favorite noodles shop which was noisy as it was lunch time. Traditional Chinese music blaring from the speakers, a group of young women at a table behind me talking loudly, buses, cars and motorcycles driving past, some honking — so much activity and noise, loud noise.
But as soon as I started thinking of the issue that I’ve spent months thinking about — all those sounds went away. My eyes were only perceiving the movements not quite different from a boring, black-and-white silent movie.
I was figuratively alone in a figuratively quiet but in reality very noisy place.
This made me think of most people’s capacity to tune out noise or to tolerate minor irritants if they truly want to and try. I am saying most people because I believe most of us actually have this capacity to do so, but perhaps there are many who just refuse to even try. And of course there are those who have some sensory or emotion regulation problems who literally cannot stand certain irritants (like my autistic son who does not mind loud music but cries and gets angry when he hears other children crying!)
I have heard and read numerous accounts of people complaining about babies crying during a flight, especially a long haul one. Some reactions and suggestions offered I find quite unhelpful and extremely unsympathetic. I understand that there are parents (or grandparents!) accompanying children on a flight who may not be bothered by the child’s crying and do not care that other passengers are bothered by it. I honestly think these people are in the minority though. Most parents or caregivers on the flights I’ve been on (and I fly several times a year) do try to get the child to be quiet. But yes, there are those who don’t, and their indifference is more annoying than the child’s behavior.
As I said, I have read reactions and comments that are quite unhelpful or are extremely unsympathetic to parents who do try their best to calm down their child (and I believe they do because, let’s be honest, no sane parent loves to hear his/her child cry or be noisy.) Some people said: babies should not be allowed on a flight. This is very unhelpful because these people who complain do not know why the family are traveling. One never knows unless one asks why somebody is traveling — maybe for a holiday, or maybe to see a doctor. But one doesn’t even have to know — everyone has the right to fly and they are paying for it like everyone else.
I have taken several flights with my son, and thankfully he has always behaved himself (we have 2 flights coming I hope I don’t jinx them!) Even as a baby (at 5 months was when he had his first flight), he never cried. But also as a parent, I have always prepared for our flights — toys and gadgets to keep him occupied (I am also lucky that my flights with him are no longer than 2 hours.) However there are babies and young children who are really bothered by ear pressure during flight and parents who do not know how to deal with it. (click here for Tips) When I travel domestically, I usually say something to the parents (fellow Filipinos), “Maybe baby needs his bottle or pacifier?” but in international flights, I tend to keep quiet as the culture is, “Mind your own business.”
There are misbehaving children with parents who let them be and there are babies who cry whose parents just let them be. But there are lots of good parents who do try their best and babies who, for whatever reason, just cry! I hope we can be more sympathetic. We were all babies once — were we always so angelic?
So going back to my main idea — we are capable of tuning out noise or tolerating minor irritants. We surely can if we truly want to and just try. We do not even need noise-cancelling headsets to do this. To prove this, pay attention to how you sometimes tune out your best friend when he’s going on and on about something you’ve already heard a thousand times. That easy.
These — our memories
Are all that’s left of the past.
No, we can’t go back.
Life wouldn’t be life
Without smiles that often come
After bitter tears.
Your sweet love is sweet
Sweet as the sweets that one chews
Til it’s sweet no more.
Arise! The sun is up.
Come and see what daylight brings.
Come! Beauty awaits.
I am a morning person, but my husband isn’t. But once in a while I can get him to go out for a walk with me early in the morning.
This morning we had beautiful weather at 15C (59F) and walking past the lake I spied an egret (one of the few who haven’t migrated south). To me it was a beautiful sight, and made me smile. (I know I sound like a drama queen, but it is that easy to make me feel happy!)
And it came to me that there’s so much beauty to see early in the morning that people fail to see because they are still in bed. I feel lucky to be able to see and be touched by such a simple sight.
I hope you find something to make you smile today.
Be still, remember —
Though this life’s rough winds shake you
This storm shall pass.
Soft and mellow light
Shines gently on this lonely,
If I could I would,
Paint the best picture of how
I remember you.
Leaving the office today, I looked up at the sky and saw the clouds. I wanted to capture the image of the tree with the clouds as the background, and the result is, to me, much nicer than I imagined. To me, it looks like something I would really like to paint, if only I could!
Weary from this world
Where no one can give comfort,
One sits in a tree.
As a child, I loved climbing trees. There used to be guava trees in front of our house before my uncle built his house there and a java apple fruit tree behind one of my aunts’ house, which is behind our house. My grandfather made sure all his 8 children lived in the same place, so where I grew up there are 7 detached houses where my mother and her siblings had built their homes.)
My sisters, cousins and I used to climb the trees in the afternoons and sit on the branches (we were all young and thin!) and pick fruits. We were all pretty good at climbing back then. (I can probably still climb but I don’t think any of my sisters or cousins will dare! Lol!)
So whenever I see a tree, I judge it as being climbable or not. Part of me really wants to climb when I see street trees (here they are mango trees) , but living in the city, I don’t want to embarrass myself. A couple of years ago, I went to visit my former professor and he had a very climbable tree in his yard, so I asked if I could climb and sit in it. Being eccentric himself, he said, “Why not?” So, I did!
Sitting in a tree gives me a wonderful feeling of being safe and worry-free, especially when I hear the rustle of the leaves when the wind blows.
At my age now, I see a lot of trees that were I ten years younger, I would consider climbable, but can only look at with a sigh. I wish I could teach my son to climb a tree. That would probably need hundreds more of occupational therapy sessions, but who knows.
Day and night she spins,
Weaving an intricate design
Borne of human pride.
I don’t have a picture of a spider or a spider’s web, so this handwoven straw fan would have to do. It probably wasn’t human pride that led the maker of this fan to become a weaver, and no Athena to punish her, but like Arachne, he/she has to work hard.
Something, someone new
Means a chance for excitement
To once lonely hearts.
Yes, you have moved on —
Grateful for every minute
Your poor heart forgets.
A flower loses
A pretty, tiny petal —
With a grateful heart
The soul can find more blessings,
Joys more than sorrows.
Passions in people,
But as flowers — wilt.
As the sun sets down
Below the horizon again,
The yearning begins.
The roughness of scars
Those deep, painful wounds have left —
Enough proof of strength.
A roadside beauty,
But one who sees, smiles.
May you find something to make you smile today!
Moonlit evening stroll,
Cool breeze caressing my skin —
As I walk alone.
The heart that lost the battle
To stay unbroken.
Are all in the mind.
Don’t keep looking up
Look straight ahead and walk on
You’ll get there in time.
Everyone has left
They have moved on with their lives.
Save for one — who waits.
Two people may feel smothered.
Apart — they love, thrive.
Straight or crooked, narrow or wide —
There is a way out.
In the darkness
Lies a shallowly hidden
Cranny. Search — there’s light!
In eerie darkness
Silence, then, rustling of trees.
What a sight! The moon!
Shed those bitter tears
And then go, explore again
For the world abounds.
Sun sets yet again
Another day sees its end.
Time — how did you spend?
Hope you do something meaningful today.
Happy weekend! 💕
Imagined prosperity —
The grass is always greener….
People sometimes imagine a better life somewhere else, unhappy with what they have. They follow their desire and get all excited about their new life only to be disappointed after a while.
Sometimes it’s not a change of place that’s needed. Just a change of heart. Or mind.
Happy weekend! 💕
I walk down this road
And say aloud the words
I know you won’t hear.
But I hope the wind
Carries them to you
Across the seas
You’ll never hear them
You’ll feel them on your cheeks
Make you think of me.
You’re only a shadow of what you used to be
You’re no longer real.
Find what used to make you real.
Then maybe you’ll find yourself.
Do not get too close.
It will burn you and blind you,
Farther — gives you warmth.
Some people are better seen (or heard) from a distance, too. 😛
(Btw, the framing of this picture is far from perfect as I wasn’t even looking up when I took the picture! Just pointed my phone camera to where I felt the sun was and click! Hey! It wasn’t too bad!)
Have a lovely week! 💕
No matter how steep
If there are steps, then you can
Climb, climb to the top.
“Trees are poems the earth writes upon the sky.” –Kahlil Gibran
Wishing you a blessed weekend! 🙏🏽
We move in different circles
Some wider than others
But not necessarily happier.
It doesn’t matter how big or small
The circle you’re in,
What matters is who are in it:
Who are they to you?
Who are you to them?
Do they matter to you?
Do you matter to them?
Some circles are big but empty.
Others are small but not petty.
I have a 4-day weekend this week. So, happy weekend!💕
And cars, buses, trains and planes —
Far from them — silence!
In this busy and noisy world, may you find time and a place for solitude. 🙏🏽
Though clouds block the way
Find slits through which to shine bright
Shine bright and give light.
Dark clouds hide the sun
Then the wind blows and clouds move
Briefly — the sun shines.
I was on a moving bus when I took the picture above. I have always liked watching the sun’s rays through the clouds. To me it always feels like the land is being blessed.
But the haikus I attempted to write aren’t about that. They are about being optimistic and sharing that optimism with others.
I hope you find reasons to be optimistic today! 💕
Seen from a distance
Laughter heard across the miles
But untouched — unreal
Technology has made our lives easier and communicating with family more convenient.
Yet, somehow seeing your loved on the screen of your computer or phone or iPad is not the same as holding their hand or hugging them.
Online communication still seems so unreal.
Maybe it will feel “normal” in the future. Maybe.
Tea’s gone cold again.
Today just like yesterday —
No one’s here to drink.
May you have someone to drink tea (or coffee or wine) with. 😉
Have a lovely week!
As the sun rises
The city wakes and you move
Far away from me.
A cup of coffee
blended with words of love and hate —
The past. Water, please.
Have a wonderful week!
Underneath the layers
Underneath the layers
Lies something hidden,
Lies something hidden,
Waiting to be seen.
Waiting to be seen.
Gentle and glowing,
She dazzles every creature
With her candid pose.
I know Ann-Christine suggested candid photographs of people and animals, but I don’t have lots of those that I think I can share publicly. Then I saw the moon tonight and thought, “What a beauty!” And I attempted a haiku praising the moon, and thought of the word “candid.” So there. 😉
Have a lovely week!
Home — a word, a place
a person who makes you love
life and want to live.
May you find yourself a happy home. 💕
Sun rises again
A new day begins again
But what’s new with you?
Have a lovely day! 😊
When silence tortures
the mind, body and the soul,
Writing soothes and heals.
Have a peaceful week! 🙏🏽
My husband and I have the weirdest conversations between a married couple simply because I am weird. One of the things we talked about a couple of years ago was what would happen WHEN I die (because I have to die first, and I would never forgive him if he dies before me! To which he agrees. He says he would like to be able to give me a proper funeral. This I truly appreciate.)
I told him that at my funeral, he can look around and see who among my friends he can marry. Well, this was too weird for him. (But perhaps he was just thinking my friends would be too old for him!)
When I told my friends and sisters about this they thought I was crazy.
Maybe. But my point is, I would like my husband to be happy when I leave. My only condition is that whoever that woman who can make him happy is, should accept my son like he is her son, because I want my son to be happy too.
Unlike the characters in the Disney movie, “Coco” who feel the need to be remembered — I don’t feel the need to be remembered. It would be nice to be remembered, but I am not sentimental about it. What matters most to me is number 1: my autistic son is taken care of until such time he can look after himself; and number 2: that the people I love will go on to live happy, healthy lives after I’m gone.
The day before my mother died, I saw the look on her face change when my then 13-year-old nephew who is my mom’s first grandchild, entered the room. Her eyes lit up, and there was a fondness for my nephew that was so visible that I, her youngest child, felt a little jealous even though I was already 44! We all knew she had not wanted to leave yet because she was worried about him. We gave her the assurance that we all would take care of each other.
I have tried to keep that promise.
I hope that when it’s my turn to go, I would get the same promise that my son will be taken care of. And that they will keep it.
Sonnet 71 by William Shakespeare
No longer mourn for me when I am dead
Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell
Give warning to the world that I am fled
From this vile world with vilest worms to dwell:
Nay, if you read this line, remember not
The hand that writ it, for I love you so,
That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot,
If thinking on me then should make you woe.
O! if, I say, you look upon this verse,
When I perhaps compounded am with clay,
Do not so much as my poor name rehearse;
But let your love even with my life decay;
Lest the wise world should look into your moan,
And mock you with me after I am gone.
Serenity. One of my favorite words, next to solitude.
I find serenity.
The bottle will remain unopened.
That pack of cigarettes will stay unsmoked.
Those cheesecakes calling me as I walk past the bakery will be ignored.
And the backups won’t be hearing from me anytime soon.
For as long as there’s a teeny bit of will left in me…
You’re not winning again.
Be strong. You are loved. ♥️
Three years ago this month, I lost my mother. And every year this month, I buy flowers (pictured below) that I put next to her photograph. Every year in March, as I look at both flowers and my mom’s photograph, I am reminded of the uncertainty of life, of its ephemerality and the sadness that comes with being left behind by those who go before us.
This month my musing on the transiency of life is made even sadder by the thought of 2 of my best friends facing serious illnesses. My 3 best friends, unlike me who wanted to die at 20, have always wanted to live long, happy, healthy lives.
For the lovers of life, I hope you never lose that WILL to live even when doctors give you that diagnosis that sounds like a death sentence. I hope in your heart will burn that desire to prove the doctors wrong and that you “RAGE against the dying of the light.” ♥️
by Dylan Thomas
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
When I was in my early twenties, I truly understood the meaning of “everything has its end.” Both good and bad. Since then I have always been aware of how the happiness I may be feeling at one time, may turn into sadness any minute. As a result, I’ve learned to treasure happy times, and to look forward to the end of my troubles. This has worked quite well for me over the years.
Yet at that moment when I am going through a difficult time, it always seems as if the end is taking forever to come.
Like it is now.
Though I know I’ll be able to sincerely smile and laugh again, for now faking it will have to do. This is part of the process. Real happiness will come again, perhaps in a day or two, a week or two, a month or two. Or a year.
But for now, patience.
May you have patience to bear whatever burden you have on your shoulders today. 💕
I met a man who lives in a cozy home
And doesn’t have to work
Because his family has enough money.
He’s lonely. And unhappy.
I met a woman who lives in a 3-story villa
With her two beautiful and smart children
And a moneyed husband who adores her.
But she says her life has no meaning
And she wants something more
Than just being mother and wife.
So she’s unhappy.
And the ones who labor day and night,
Careful not to waste a morsel of what’s on the table,
Can only think they’d be content and happy
If they had what these two have.
But…will they really?
In my life I have met so many unhappy people. Although I believe some of these people have no control over this feeling of unhappiness, most of them just choose not to be happy or content with what they have.
“’Yet let him keep the rest,
But keep them with repining restlessness;
Let him be rich and weary, that at least,
If goodness lead him not, yet weariness
May toss him to my breast.'”
— from The Pulley by George Herbert
It is perhaps human nature to be restless and to always want something more. But I think we CAN choose to be content and be grateful for what we have.
Hope you find something to be grateful for today!💕
Having the ability to look at the past and be grateful for it;
Living in the moment with the knowledge that it is not going to last;
Being hopeful for the future that the ones we leave behind will have better lives than the one we had.
Happiness is having faith that everything is going to be all right.
Have a happy week!💕
The more often I bid you goodbye
The more excruciating it is to walk away.
It is because as time passes by
So you grow into a more adorable you.
Dream beautiful dreams,
They don’t cost anything
But time and energy–
Both of which you need
To make those dreams
This canopy of leaves
under which we lie,
a shelter from all the fears and pains
this life has brought us…
This crown cover,
a silent witness
to our hopes and wishes
both spoken and unspoken…
Gives us this momentary comfort
from the torturous sun.
Incheon Bridge, South Korea
It does not matter how long
this bridge is, that we are on,
as it will never be long enough —
when every second, every inch
that we cover to get to the other side
brings us closer to the end
of this painfully short reunion.
I have started my own weekly writing prompt to make me write something or post a photo. Feel free to use the prompt for your own posts!
Have a lovely week!
Xiamen Island viewed from Jimei, Xiamen
How do you do it?
How do you manage to make me want
To be closer to you
Even when I know
Yet this addiction
To the mere sight of you
Seems to have no cure.
Do I even want to recover?
As there is no longer a Daily Prompt from the Daily Post, I decided to make my own prompts to make me write. Feel free to join me and write your own posts using the prompt.
Have a lovely week!
Life goes on though it ends for some
This life some love and others hate,
This life some fight for and others willingly surrender.
What is life that you seize every second to live it?
What is life that you just want to escape from it?
Life has meaning only if you give it one,
And believe it and live it.
Find a meaning
A few weeks ago, I read an article by a writer reminiscing about his friendship with the late Seamus Heaney, and of course his famous last words, a text message to his wife — Noli timere (“Don’t be afraid”). Unfortunately I can’t find that article anymore as I don’t remember the title nor the author’s name, so I can’t give you the link.
That article led me to read about Heaney’s last words as recalled by his son in his eulogy. And this in turn led me to remember what my mother said to me a week before she passed as I cried in front of her, exhausted from all the seemingly insurmountable problems that had befallen me — her worsening health condition, my son’s autism, not being able to get a visa for my son, among other things. She reached for my hand, as she lay in bed, and said to me in a voice full of confidence, “Don’t worry. Everything will be all right. E. is going to be fine.”
I wonder if it is just the dying’s way of comforting the living, so as not to make them worry about what life would be like for the living without them, or if somehow they have some kind of vision of what the future will be like, or if their faith is strengthened as they near that end.
But my mother’s words really comforted me, and I believed her. And I believed her words even more as indeed, after she passed, we were able to find a special needs school for my son, and the same embassy that made it difficult for us to get a visa for him, gave him a travel document instead.
Even now whenever I have a problem, apart from praying, I would think of my mother and how she would have stormed the gates of heaven to pray for me.
As a mother myself, I keep praying for my son. Some nights I lie awake wondering, fearing, what the future would be like for my son. I read articles like this one about a parent describing what life is like for someone with a 13-year old son with ASD , and I fear dying before my son can learn to live independently.
For now I can protect my son and comfort him when he is hurt or scared, but no parent can or should do this for the rest of our lives. Our children grow, and we pass on. But hopefully, our comforting words will live in their hearts and give them courage to live their lives.
BE NOT AFRAID
The sky may darken
And let fall the rain
That doesn’t seem to end
The winds may howl
Like a crazed person
Banging on the window
The lightning may strike
And give you a glimpse
Of the dark clouds outside
The thunder may roar
And cow you into hiding
Under your soft blanket
But don’t be afraid,
Mommy’s here to keep you safe
And warm as you sleep and dream
Of a beautiful sunrise when you wake.
He laments the quick and merciless
Passing of time and the white strands of hair
That are starting to show on his temples.
He looks at old photographs and then looks at himself
In the mirror and sighs …. “Time is unkind.
“We were so young then…,” he says.
“And stupid,” she adds.
She looks at herself in the mirror and sighs…
“This is inevitable,” she says to herself.
“The only thing that is constant is change.
Nature, too, ages.
The sun may rise and set again day after day,
And the waves rush back and forth,
Second after second…
Yet they, too, go through change.
“But some things can remain constant
In our lifetime.
We can keep them constant.
And that should be enough.”
Daily Prompt: Constant
We’re not children,
We don’t need to fight over petty matters,
It shouldn’t matter who has the last witty retort,
In fact there’s no need for a retort
Nor for the cause of such.
Let’s be the grown ups that we are.
Daily Prompt: Compromise
A big joke — a practical joke
Played on you
Which you don’t find
Funny at all.
And if you’re a believer,
You just feel like asking,
“Really, God? Are you f-ing kidding me?”
But you go on
As if everything’s all right
With your world.
Yet deep down you’re yearning
To understand what the hell is going on.
Your heart is screaming —
“Enlighten me or just put an end to it.”
She was told not to wait,
Not to expect and just live
As if the things that had happened
But was that even possible?
How could one forget —
Those eyes that smiled
Even when the lips didn’t?
The embrace that seemed
To promise to never let go?
The words that should only be uttered
By those who mean them?
So she waits.
As she remembers
Everything that happened.
Daily Prompt: Expect
I called your name out loud,
But my voice just echoed in this room.
You said I’d be safe in this place,
And I believed you.
But why do I feel,
Like I’m not free
To even say goodbye to you?
Why is my heart crying out
Daily Prompt: Release
Nothing that anyone will ever notice.
You can go in and out of any place,
And people wouldn’t even know you were there.
You may even laugh, but your laughter
Is always drowned by others’ louder laughter.
Your tears are yours alone,
The world never bothers to ask
What bring them to your sad eyes.
So now that your back is bent,
And your feet hurt when you walk,
You think no one will miss you
When you simply disappear.
No one will come runnning
To stop you from jumping
From that bridge
You walk every day
Of your lonely adult life.
But you have to know — you’re not exceptional.
Not even in this.
Daily Prompt: Exceptional
As pure as a flower
Growing naturally, artlessly?
Why do we have to pretend
To care when we don’t,
To feel when our hearts are empty,
To believe when we’re full of doubts,
To love when there’s only contempt?
They say if you live in society,
You need to socialize,
Be friendly, smile.
But what if society’s superficiality
Is killing you?
And you’re dying a slow, painful death
With your fake smile, and your fake laugh
And your equally fake concern
For your fake friends.
Perhaps this is part of living.
Perhaps life itself is superficial.
When a baby was crying in hunger,
A mother was grieving over her dying child,
A beggar was looking for shelter in the cold?
You weren’t there,
And you refused to see
Or to even think of them.
And now you weep,
Alone, outside your once happy home,
Certain that nobody will come
To comfort you in your grief.
But don’t worry…
Somebody always does,
And most likely they’re the ones,
You once despised
For their silly faith
In love, sacrifice, generosity, forgiveness and sympathy.
There was nothing special about her
Nothing that would make one
Take a second look.
Then one day, people saw
Not her ordinariness,
But the peculiar way
She died for the man
That no one else could love.
Daily Prompt: Peculiar
First there was silence,
Then a plaintive cry
Breaking the quiet
And the heart
From which it came.
Daily Prompt: Crescendo
She silently knits,
As he sips his coffee,
Both sitting quietly
Next to each other.
Buddies in youth,
Partners for life,
Living their years
Side by side.
Hiding in her shell,
Afraid of showing
Her true, bright self.
Then she met him
Who showed her the world
And how to survive in it.
Though now he’s gone,
She still remembers
How she finally got the moxie
From him whose name is Rocky.😜
Wrinkly dried dates,
Tailored to your taste.😛
Underneath the smiles
And the occasional laughter,
The pain of burying
Words that cry out to be heard,
Acts that desire completion.
Some secrets are best carried to the grave.
He capered his way
Into her life,
Saying , “Today’s the day,
I start anew.”
But his capering nature
Couldn’t make him stay.
And he capered away
Out of her life.
Daily Prompt: Caper
The savage in you
Like to tickle me
To death – you
Relish seeing me squirm
When your hands start sneaking slowly
My arms, my waist
Then up the sides of my breasts
Where your fingers deftly move
Like a pianist’s hands on the keys
Or a wolf’s claws on its prey.
July 5, 2000
(Written 17 years ago when love meant something totally different. Sigh.)
Your roots savagely grow down
From you, growing faster and stronger
As they reach the ground
And later strangle you.
You from whom they came from.
If you could stop them,
(Banyan trees are also known as “strangler figs” for their “strangling” growth habit. The roots descend from the branches and grow a pseudotrunk that makes it look like it’s strangling the main trunk. Unfortunately I don’t have a photo of a pseudotrunk although I’ve seen so many here in Xiamen. I chose these two photos for the way the roots seem to grow savagely from the branches.)
May you have a CALM week, not a savage one. 💕😁
I can see the island from here,
A part of me is eager to see
What it has to offer,
What kind of people I’ll meet.
But a voice inside me tells me,
“This island won’t be any different
From the one you just left.
The stories you will see
Unfold before you,
Will have the same plot,
But the same endings
Because you are the same you.
Wherever you go.
Your story never changes.”
You dreamt dreams
Bigger than mine were
Before he was born.
They grew even bigger
Weeks and months
After he was born.
Then we were told
Something was wrong.
It would take a while
For him to start talking.
Our friends told us
He may never go to college.
And we were crushed.
You, with the bigger dreams,
But you bounced back.
And continue to fight
For this little boy
We brought to this world.
From a dreamer
To a realist.
No more dreaming.
Just doing everything that is best
For your son.
Happy Father’s Day to all wonderful fathers!
Nothing symbolizes the evanescence of life more than a beautiful flower. Life has its beauty and its fragility, reasons we value what little time we have. The beauty of a flower is as ephemeral as its short life.
The only way to deal with the evanescence of life is to enjoy every minute of it.
- To the Virgins, to Make Much of time
- By Robert Herrick
- Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
- Old Time is still a-flying;
- And this same flower that smiles today
- To-morrow will be dying.
- The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,
- The higher he’s a-getting,
- The sooner will his race be run,
- And nearer he’s to setting.
- That age is best which is the first,
- When youth and blood are warmer;
- But being spent, the worse, and worst
- Times still succeed the former.
- Then be not coy, but use your time,
- And, while ye may, go marry:
- For having lost but once your prime,
- You may forever tarry.
You let me wander,
And now I’m unmoored,
A paper boat adrift in the ocean.
Soon I’ll be soaked
Unless you change your mind
And come rescue me.
Daily Prompt: Unmoored
White cottony clouds,
Cool breeze blowing the hair from my face,
Warm water touching our feet,
And your soft little hand in mine
Holding tightly, afraid of being let go,
Days like this are few and far between
And make moments like these
More precious than anything money can buy.
Until next time, my dear son,
When things will be better
The sky may be gray,
But you’re right here, next to me
I will be OK.
Have a lovely week!
In all directions,
To Mother Earth,
Sucking her dry,
Until nothing remains
But us and our greed.