Friday, December 8, 2017

Still You

There is...
a sense of security when I come to You, Lord.

I know that Presence - that caring, accepting, and peaceful Presence I drenched myself in when I felt alone in the convent. I would look at You, and You would look at me as if I'm the only person in the universe.

You created everything, but You looked at me as if I was much more loved. Much more beautiful.

I came to You in my dirtiest clothes, and you welcomed me.

I did come to You in my I-haven't-taken-a-bath-yet state, and you welcomed me.

I approached You without make-up nor with the hair of my legs shaved, and you welcomed me.

I ran to You in my worst - dry, angry, depressed - and you welcomed me.

I've already stepped out of the nunnery.
And still here You are, alive with that Presence.

Everything has changed. Everyone did.
But You, Lord, have not.

You are still who You are.

And You still love me.

Sunday, December 3, 2017

Reaching Infinity


Here in the car, I look at the clouds.
And think of You.

I can't remember the last time I felt near You like I used to.
By that, I mean, me being so-much drawn to You.
I can't remember.

I shut myself in a cave for reasons I have not spelled out yet. And somehow, I felt like my awe in You has been translated into the colors I poured into papers, sheets of sketched faces, and paintings on my room's walls.

They say it is a form of idealism, of me trying to make alive a world I created in my head.
Or maybe it's me trying to reach infinity, trying to reach You.

You and me.
Me and You.

Because we is really the only world I know,
the only space I would willingly fall into.

Here in the car, I look at the clouds.
And I feel like I am back to we,
that I never really got that far from You...
because You were never far from me.

I think of You, and feel that it's not so bad to create chimerical worlds,
but it is time to give them breath.

It is time to live, not merely dipping myself in colors and ink.
But to live, truly reaching for You.
Always reaching for Infinity.

Monday, November 20, 2017

Somewhere Not Here


This morning, I sat on the chair by my desk to meditate.

But before I closed my eyes, I let the picture of the shore get into me, and inadvertently brought it with me in the darkness.

And it painted the darkness.

I want to go somewhere where nature is, some place where I could sit before the ocean and stare at the horizon. Or perhaps, somewhere with cool breeze and mountains reaching the velvety sky. 

Somewhere, somewhere away from this city.

There, I would sit by the shore and inhale the morning air. Then I would meditate and safely fall into nothingness.

There, I would find words, string them together, and write them.

There, I would be free. And be myself. Just myself. See who I am, see what I want, see my potential. There, I would see me in my raw form.

I do not know why I cannot get enough of silence when I have a room at home where I could be alone and quiet. But maybe I need a new environment, some new place, some fresh space.

I have to be somewhere I could think more then come out new, at peace, and strong.

Or just some place.

Some space where I could be in utter Vastness.

And find direction.

Wednesday, November 8, 2017

Transience


When you know that things go in and out of existence,
That time passes
And the sun sleeps
The mood hides
Clouds dissipate
Flowers decay
The ice melts
And the breath of life evaporates
What do you do?
How do you capture
A brief moment's beauty
That once fades
Will never be seen again?

Monday, October 23, 2017

Drawn to Freedom


I cup my hands over you, 
O floating light,
And keep you safe,
keep you in my heart.
I wish to have a whit, a speck,
A touch of your sliver,
Bury me in your dust 
Until I own it,
Yes, own it forever!

O freedom,
I like your pleasant face.
I envy your mirth,
How you're loafing, 
Smiling at the sun
And let your dress flutter 
When you run.

O freedom,
How you spread your arms before the sky!
You walk this earth barefooted,
And in the grass, you lie
Embracing and soaking,
Soaking in its sweet scent.

Freedom,
I like your verity,
You strip off clothes of hypocrisy.
You face the world unmasked,
Trudging hills and bushes,
Scathed by torns and branches.
You are brave, very brave.

Freedom,
In the night, your mind wanders,
Dabbing, staining papers with paint
And then threading words,
Creating worlds that don't exist
Yet live through pens and paintbrushes.

Tuesday, October 17, 2017

Three Things Women Don't Want to Forget


You, woman, remember.
Three things.

One, you are beautiful.
You might see flaws in the mirror,
but none of those define your beauty.
What matters isn't those that fade and change.
It's about who you are and what you make people feel.

Two, you are worthy.
Your worth is more than glinting diamonds and bars of gold.
You are far more than any material thing in the world,
for your heart is capable of loving deeply
and your mind runs beyond the longest mile.

Three, you deserve a great man.
You're for a man who will love you everyday,
and adore your strengths and weaknesses combined,
and respect you from head to toe.
You might be wrong in other things,
but it doesn't mean you're for a wrong man.

You, woman, remember.
Cherish yourself.

Wednesday, October 11, 2017

When God Stares


I lay awake in bed with You in my head.

It was a fine morning. 

The sun was gently shining, 
the temperature cool.

And I felt like You were staring at me,
staring with soft eyes.

Lovingly.

Adoringly.

Unflinching.

I felt like You were telling me 
that You were with me.

That I was never alone.

That I was protected, guided and cared for.

That I was loved.

I lingered on Your stare,
basked in it.

Minutes passed.

A few more minutes.

I felt Your presence soaking my skin,
then my muscles 
then my bones.

You are with me, Lord.

Then I sat,
and then stood.

And I lived the day.