When the Breeze Blew the Poppies

I had a busy day, running with time in the city.

Something was wrong with our office's management, and all we could do was work, floating along the waves created by their huge hands. My brows furrowed almost every single day without my command. Every night, I yearned for peace. For solitude. For an escape. Until that night came when I had to just sleep all the exhaustion away.

Four hours.

Six hours.

Eight.

I opened my eyes. Such a bright sky. Birds from afar were singing while clouds ambled over me, looking pure and fluffy as usual. I lifted my hand and traced one cloud with my finger. I formed a dolphin. I giggled.

Wait.

I flapped my arms, as if making a snow angel. I realized, I was lying, not in my bed, but in a meadow - cool, sweet-scented meadow. How did I get here?

I sat bolt upright, and looked around me. I was a dot in a huge space of meadow embellished with chamomile. That part from afar had colorful poppies sticking out, though.

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

I was dumbfounded, awestruck for quite a long while. Not blinking. Unflinching at the peace that was welling in me. I just could not believe I was there. I looked up again to see the sky's splendor, and noticed the rays of the sun peeking out of a cloud.

That was holy and grand.

I lingered at this some more, mouth agape and rarely moving.

Then came the breeze.

And woke me up.

He calls

It hit me like lightning, 

one sunset,

while I was on bed, holding my rosary.

I was talking to Him,

prattling, actually,

and begging.

Then, it paralyzed me for a minute,

my eyes and mouth agape.

It took the form of a song,

that old and very familiar one.

Here I am, Lord

Is it I, Lord?

I have heard You calling in the night.

I will go, Lord, if You lead me.

I will hold Your people in my heart.

Its words struck me deep, as always,

yet this time, 

it was sweet and piercing,

heavy yet weightless,

cold and burning!

But I held on to it,

and savored it in my mouth,

then down my throat.

It felt warm inside.

It went deep beneath my skin,

then into my bones.

Finally, it captured my heart,

every inch of it,

every valve and chamber,

every cartilage and muscle,

every vessel!

Next thing I know,

salty tears were streaming down my cheeks.

It was my longest one minute.

Yes, it hit me like lighting -

His voice.

Trembling, I acknowledged,

"God is calling."

One day, I dreamed to be truly loved by a man.

One day, I dreamed to be truly loved by a man.

A man who may be way different from me,

but understands me.

He, who takes pleasure in our differences,

and is willing to make compromises.

A man who may be different from me

in many or some aspects, but shares my faith.

He, who is a lover of God.

A man who brings me closer to God.

He, who reminds me of how loving God is

just by making me feel loved himself.

A man who thinks I am lovable,

beautiful despite all imperfections.

But of course, he, who makes me feel that I truly am.

A man whom I can come to when I'm lonely,

or disappointed, or angry, or frustrated,

and won't judge me for how I feel.

He, who would try to appease me

because he cares.

A man who does not hide the truth.

He, who is secured with the truth,

and prepared to face the truth.

A man who makes time for me,

who proves that he wants to be with me.

He, who makes way for us

without excuses, only pure desire.

A man who takes pride on my achievements

or little successes.

He, who supports my dreams,

and motivates me towards them.

A man who may lose his temper,

but does his best to keep his cool.

He, who, at the end of it all, prioritizes

to not hurt me in any way.

Most of all, a man who is decided to love me.

He, who stands by that decision

and would be happy to stay with me

come hell or high water.

Between a Rock and a Hard Place

It's been calling me since I was a kid.

That Voice, I surely won't forget.

It resonates in me everytime It speaks.

It echoes the desires of my heart.

It brightens up my world.

That Voice, which I heard one holy night.

It used to bring me in ecstasy.

Now, It pierces me in the heart.

I once was decided to bring it on until the end.

I planned to follow that Voice.

I dreamed of prostrating myself in front of the altar,

and of wearing that ring of infinity.

I imagined myself in a habit,

and holding my rosary near to my heart.

I was determined to give it all up,

just to follow that Voice

which I heard one holy night.

However, one day, the heavens suddenly changed;

the sun went to sleep,

and the sky turned red and gray.

T'was not a bad sunset, nonetheless.

My world topsy-turvied,

and the Voice seemed to change itself

to something a lot more real

and equally wonderful.

I never thought that something impossible

could ever be this concrete and possible.

My thick wall got penetrated,

and my heart was enfettered.

Everything drastically changed

beautifully yet with more difficulty.

I more than enjoyed his company.

And essentially, I felt that life could go on

even with him, only.

After this, there came the storm.

I got no shade; I got nowhere to go.

I was all wet, cold and undecided.

I ran as fast as I could until I knew I had to face it.

From the dark sky, roared a thunder.

That same Voice shook the ground, asking

"Which to choose, and which to give up?

Where to go, and what to leave?"

I sat down and pressed my legs against my chest.

There I was, amid the cold heavy rain, lost in reverie.

There I was, stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Which calling should I respond to,

a vocational life, entirely offered to God

or a life with someone I love with the love of God?