before the heavens cried
1 Comments Published by carinasuyin | Wednesday, November 24, 2004 | 9:32 PM.
I walk the familiar path, enveloped in a kind of pensiveness. Thoughts and emotions dictate the pace of my steps; a quickened pace, a little skip, but mostly, one languid step at a time. I have traversed this way many a times before but unlike the previous walks, I am in no hurry to arrive.
The evening breeze plays with my hair, turning it into a disheveled mop. I let the wind tease as it pleases. It drapes a curtain over my eyes but I bother not. I know this path by heart. I can walk with my eyes closed and still, I will get there. Tell me your stories, what careless whispers do you bring today?
Auburn leaves with golden spots perform a frenzied little dance. Up and down, round and round. The hibiscus blooms droop from the weight of the fallen jewels. Tree branches rustle and brush in a cacophony devoid of symphony. Hide the beetles, go home butterflies, hurry up little snails…
The moments before the heavens cried, my heart cried first.
..........
I looked out onto the grounds below. The street lamps cast a yellow dreamy glow on the steel bodies that lined the road. A cold breeze swept in through the open windows, caressing my weary body. Goosebumps dot my arms.
The nonchalant mien that I wore all day long has now been cast aside with the day’s laundry. I surrender and fight no more. I have to care. I concede for I yearn to know if this fuzzy feeling is but a delusional, transitional and irrational confusion.
Beautiful silvery and irresistibly ghost-like lines with spiral curves that hugs and twines around each object it embraces. That is what I imagined the wind would look like. I cannot see it yet I feel it with all undeniable conviction. With the force of a hurricane yet with the tenderness of spring’s shower, the soul feels the breath of life.
The distant clock tower chimed four times. At this ungodly hour, my heart does crazy cartwheels and serendipitous sommersaults.
The moments before the heavens cried, I found peaceful acquiescence.
The evening breeze plays with my hair, turning it into a disheveled mop. I let the wind tease as it pleases. It drapes a curtain over my eyes but I bother not. I know this path by heart. I can walk with my eyes closed and still, I will get there. Tell me your stories, what careless whispers do you bring today?
Auburn leaves with golden spots perform a frenzied little dance. Up and down, round and round. The hibiscus blooms droop from the weight of the fallen jewels. Tree branches rustle and brush in a cacophony devoid of symphony. Hide the beetles, go home butterflies, hurry up little snails…
The moments before the heavens cried, my heart cried first.
..........
I looked out onto the grounds below. The street lamps cast a yellow dreamy glow on the steel bodies that lined the road. A cold breeze swept in through the open windows, caressing my weary body. Goosebumps dot my arms.
The nonchalant mien that I wore all day long has now been cast aside with the day’s laundry. I surrender and fight no more. I have to care. I concede for I yearn to know if this fuzzy feeling is but a delusional, transitional and irrational confusion.
Beautiful silvery and irresistibly ghost-like lines with spiral curves that hugs and twines around each object it embraces. That is what I imagined the wind would look like. I cannot see it yet I feel it with all undeniable conviction. With the force of a hurricane yet with the tenderness of spring’s shower, the soul feels the breath of life.
The distant clock tower chimed four times. At this ungodly hour, my heart does crazy cartwheels and serendipitous sommersaults.
The moments before the heavens cried, I found peaceful acquiescence.
yin and yang in Melaka
0 Comments Published by carinasuyin | Wednesday, November 17, 2004 | 5:48 PM.
Charles Cham's philosophy
ride a cheery beca
an alley into the past
furry chapteh
takraw balls, inedible cousin of schneeballs
water lily along Jonker Walk
putu mayam uncle does his daily rounds in Melaka
Fragrant jasmine adorns the main door
Dover Angels' Deepavali kolam
Just one of those bloody days
When you thought it would feel better to swear
only to feel worse when you do
When you regret letting words fly in anger
though you knew that such damage cannot wholly be undone
When you feel like shutting up and caring less
for the world seems to tire of you these days
Alas, my conscience can only suffer this much
Just one of those wretched days
When you wish your heart could no longer feel
so that you are spared the hurt and pain
When you think that having a sensitive nature
is seriously heavens' little joke on you
When you want to just give up
analyzing and deconstructing that thing called love
Alas, my heart can only take this much
Just one of those forsaken days
When you wonder could it just be you having PMS
or that no one told you it was Global PMS Week
When your spirits feel the weight of living
and lightness of the heart does not come easy
When your Chance cards run out
and your guardian angel's gone on extended vacation
Alas, my patience can only stretch this much
Just one of those tired days
When you go round and round in circles
or that you can't take a step forward nor a step back
When your mindless life feels like
brush-teeth water swirling down the toilet sink
When you don't think it is scary
to wish you went to sleep and never to awake
Alas my body can only support this much
Just one of those solemn days
When you lie awake with bittersweet insomnia
seeking solace in marathon Jay therapy sessions
When you long for the simplicity of days gone by
among rubber trees, monitor lizards and bikes with no brakes
When you cover your tear-stained face and finally close your eyes
to pray that tomorrow could just be a tad bit kinder
and that someone still hears your heart's whispers
for alas, my soul can only bear this much
When you thought it would feel better to swear
only to feel worse when you do
When you regret letting words fly in anger
though you knew that such damage cannot wholly be undone
When you feel like shutting up and caring less
for the world seems to tire of you these days
Alas, my conscience can only suffer this much
Just one of those wretched days
When you wish your heart could no longer feel
so that you are spared the hurt and pain
When you think that having a sensitive nature
is seriously heavens' little joke on you
When you want to just give up
analyzing and deconstructing that thing called love
Alas, my heart can only take this much
Just one of those forsaken days
When you wonder could it just be you having PMS
or that no one told you it was Global PMS Week
When your spirits feel the weight of living
and lightness of the heart does not come easy
When your Chance cards run out
and your guardian angel's gone on extended vacation
Alas, my patience can only stretch this much
Just one of those tired days
When you go round and round in circles
or that you can't take a step forward nor a step back
When your mindless life feels like
brush-teeth water swirling down the toilet sink
When you don't think it is scary
to wish you went to sleep and never to awake
Alas my body can only support this much
Just one of those solemn days
When you lie awake with bittersweet insomnia
seeking solace in marathon Jay therapy sessions
When you long for the simplicity of days gone by
among rubber trees, monitor lizards and bikes with no brakes
When you cover your tear-stained face and finally close your eyes
to pray that tomorrow could just be a tad bit kinder
and that someone still hears your heart's whispers
for alas, my soul can only bear this much
