Under your sheltering canopy
In the safety of your embrace
Beneath your reassuring grip
Like the shadow of the clouds
Passing by on a midday.
Such fleeting moments
Of alternating shadow and light:
And the silent anticipations in between
Fuel hope, keep the heart pounding
To reach another waiting shade
Along the way
Underneath your sheltering canopy.
His Name Is Ethan
Yes, I gave him a name and his name is Ethan.
I was called once to priesthood when I was in highschool, but I was expelled from the seminary after a year. Many are called, they said, but only a few are chosen; I was not. It was my first taste of rejection, and it was how my story with Ethan started.
I mentioned the seminary because I planted Ethan the summer after I was kicked out. I was 13 years old with wings broken. Nobody really cared to listen to my side of the story especially my father. My mother, as always, was there to console me ~ in silence. I was left alone in the corner to leak my own wound to heal. At that lowest point of my life, for a reason that I’m just beginning to understand now, God sent me Ethan to care. I always had some loner tendencies as a kid. That summer and years after that I became withdrawn, misunderstood. Gone was the child full of life, I fell down so low I never thought I could ever rise again.
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I feel for the tree this season
The autumn leavings make me sad.
The tree must be cursing the winds
He doesn’t want his leaves to fall.
Like I sometimes loathe
The changing season
For I don’t want to lose a friend.
I feel sorry for the leaves this season
Their descent makes me sad.
The leaves must be praying
Their would be no rain,
For they’re afraid to fall.
Like I pray the departings
Would be less painful ~
Though I need to set a friend free.
For no matter how the tree keeps its strong grip;
How the leaves keeps on clinging,
And me keeps on holding on ~
I know we need to let go
And accept the changing season.
The tree, the leaves and I
We are sad of the Autumn leavings.
For we don’t want to lose a friend.
A tiny seed is dozing in my heart.
‘Tis strange and fragile to my youthful mind.
But like a cub, ’tis untamed in the start,
And always on the look out for its kind.
Defenses look useful to coat it thick.
I’m scared to face the things my mind not ken.
Disguises mask the pain and love with trick,
Like when you left and I was heart broken.
Though bruised, the seed of hope rises to grow.
Despite the tears you caused it flourish here.
He treads the world alone and shining through.
Your face, your lips and kisses he’ll revere.
This frail seed is a would-be seasoned tree.
My sweet first love, the seedling you set free!
I am forever tracing in my mind
The creases in your palms,
When you pressed it close to mine ~
Your last strong grip,
Our last hand shake ~
Then we bade goodbye.
We met again,
We said hello.
I anticiapated a hand shake
That never happened.
In an unexpected moment
Your reach out your hand
For a hand shake.
In that brief moment
Beneath your usual firm grip
I trace the creases
In your palms I missed,
But they’re not there ~
We were wearing gloves.