The curtain of the night drops.
The howling of the wind
That echoes in the canyon
Cloaked the silence of closure.
Heaven sends its final greeting
In the form of raindrops
Where do I start, or
Did it ever end?
Words left me, or
Should I pick up from where I left, or
Simply move by?
Had I left the palette black, or
Was it white, or
Simply the absence of colors ~
A temporary recluse,
A self-exile from
My drawing board,
My writing table.
The easel put away,
As I lament
A closure of the page.
A quiet epilogue
Amidst the fading light
And sound Of the rain
The heart begins to pound.
A sign of life
Among the rabbles
Like walking dead
With no direction
(In the dark streets to nowhere)
Signs of the bread crumbs
As the sun breaks
Through the ridges;
Tapering the edges of the shadow.
The sweet mist of last night’s rain
Kissed the deserted page
Where words will begin to form again
Like spring sprouts
That would bring splashes
And rapturous sounds
To a heart coming back to life.
Where things end,
And where they begin is undefined.
Where I stopped
And when I begin is not known to me.
Everyday I awake,
That’s what I know.
I came home to celebrate Valentines with her. I have been thinking lately and some thoughts are worrying me being unattached too long, single since birth and loveless in my 30’s. A question frequents my thoughts recently. I once was asked this question by an old lady and I used to I find it really funny.
“What’s wrong with you?”
But that was 3 years ago, and it’s only lately that the question really sunk in, “Is there really something wrong with me?”
So here I am, home to find out. And the way to get the accurate answer is to go back to the real roots deeply rooted to the love of my mother and here gathered some initial findings. I maybe single, unattached and worried but one thing is sure, I am not really loveless and never been for I am loved by my family, I am especially loved by my mother. Maybe I just really have high standards set for love, and loving. And it’s my mother who raised the bar too high, I wonder if there would ever be someone who could hurdle it.
Dawn: The moon and the sleepless sea. Boracay Island, Philippines
I never had somebody to call mine,
Nobody ever called me their Valentine.
A Certified single since birth,
I share to no one my life’s mirths.
I understand, and have few compaints.
I remain not jaded, am free of taints.
There’s no space for bitterness in my heart,
Ardor overflows in its every part.
Midday: Taking Sails. Boracay Island, Philippines
But no matter how strong or smart I am,
There’s no guarantee that pain wouldn’t come.
I welcome pain with open mind,
I wait for love for me to find.
I loved and was hurt, too, once.
Though ’twas an unconsumated romance.
We took on sail, but not moored our feelings.
So we soared and fell like birds with broken wings.
There are no more emblems left of our love,
But the sad poems chanted by a waif dove.
Dusk: Waif dove. Boracay Island, Philippines
Pages turn yellow, and the mind forgets,
But the soul recalls the songs of our heartbeats.
And now, for a broken heart like mine,
How would I greet you, Happy Valentines?
I’ve nothing to share, I could only comment:
Anchor your love, celebrate each moment.
You’ll never know how special the love you’ve done,
Til the person you’ve shared it with is gone.