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.

In Your Presence

(Audible sigh)

At last! Rest.

I like being here.

It's peaceful.

Here, I am safe.

No one will judge me.

Or think ill about me.

Or talk behind my back.

Here, it's okay to not do anything.

To relax my limbs,

To just stare at Your eyes.

And listen.

Here, it's just You and me.

You, who know me more than anyone does.

You, who accept me,

and trust me,

and love me.

It's peaceful here.

And I like how I can be here anytime.

Yes, anytime.

The Last Crumb

I am at the last stretch of my journey,

and I have no bread left to sustain me.

Last week, I trod a tough road, and

the last crumb helped me carry the load.

Now, my body's sick and weary.

my lips are dry and thirsty,

and my mind's away from the journey.

Now I rest, mulling over the sky,

feeling the breeze and watching doves fly.

I listen to the earth where I'm lying,

and wonder if this halt would be worthwhile.

But time is running, running, and running,

and I wasted my strength chasing.

Oh Lord of all graces,

Oh God of beauty, songs and phrases.

I pray that manna would fall from heaven,

I pray for bread or fish to keep me living.

Now that I am at this point of exhaustion,

Jesus, nourish me until the next season.

One Rainy Night

Cry with me, O moon

amid this drear starless night.

Breathe it out like the furious wind,

shout as loud as the roaring thunder,

flood this earth with tears.

The nature would understand us.

This world is diseased beyond all healing.

It isn't as peaceful as we are in reverie.

We will always be bombed with insults,

burnt alive with hate,

and destroyed by pain.

It will always try to mar our beauty.

So let's grieve tonight for all that we've lost.

And when our eyes bring tears no more,

our mouths already parched,

and our hearts weary,

we will lay down to rest.

We will lay down to rest.

Your Haven

I want to be your haven,

here, in my arms,

in the warmth of my embrace,

where you can rest,

where you can be sure of your safety.

I want to be your haven,

where you can breathe out all your pain,

frustrations and disappointments;

where you gather strength and courage.

I want to be your haven,

where you'll be nourished;

where you'll feel your worth,

see your beauty and goodness

and get to believe in yourself.

I want to be your haven,

even just your haven.

And so everytime you have to leave,

 I will just watch you go,

with a trusting heart,

with complete surrender.

But if ever you find another haven,

yet in the end, still find your way to me,

I promise you

that my doors will be widely open,

and still be your haven.