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Posts Tagged ‘reminder’

The chandelier sways a little

when the ceiling sheds its skin

to show its old bones. Paint on walls

reveal its freckles and birthmarks,

wrinkled through the shifting cycle

of Gregorian calendars. You worry

about the constant reminders

from the electric company,

those unpaid bills overcrowding

this three-legged desk. And the

water leaks from the rusty tap.

 

The old photographs dog eared

collecting fungus of memories

dampening happy days like rain.

And the red wine loses its color.

And the window curtains block off

the light, dusty and unwashed.

Breakfast unprepared, it’s another

long hours without eating but verses

of poems you chew in your mind.

 

Here is the knife and slice something

open, now. It might reveal a thing 

that you don’t understand.

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Imagine yourself playing the part.

The melody in a slow tempo

touching the white bones in mine.

The blank spaces glide

filling the staves into octaves

where rhythms of silence

are aching to be heard.

 

The approaching train

in locomotion slowly halting

to a rest and the muse

steps out in a sudden hush.

Whose inspiration reminds me

of the autumn breeze

that shifts its weight

among the rustling of leaves.

 

The sounds in the pavement,

and the trickling of the rain

drops of minims, crochets,

semibreves and quavers

into unfamiliar serenade

awakening the restless

in the night’s peaceful embers.

 

I remember the beating pulse,

the sharp pause counterpointing

the pace and the careful movement

of that forgotten harmony

smoothly entering my soul.

 

When all love was just a dream

and tonight I hear applause

thundering under my own skin.

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Here, in the box are things that you left me.

It’s been years I kept them hidden under

my bed. Should I throw it away? A burden

 

that I should burn it aflame with the world

like this tongue of hatred growing each day.

Oh sadness, it lingers through days like rain.

 

I have learned to befriend loneliness. I am

a castaway and a stranger to my own skin.

Chained to asking myself of what, why or how-

 

I build myself a wall of defense in silence

shielding me from these ghosts of abandon

and fear. Believing I have moved on but no.

 

I ran away as fast as I could in circles

until the soles of my feet bleed in despair.

I hated you and I should tell you that, now.

 

The blue light to my cigarette starts another

round of stinging away this loneliness

floating in loops through the night’s surreal air.

 

The beads begin forming in my mugs of beer

unknowingly- which of those are my sweat or tears-

blurred in the sad memory that you left me.

 

Remind me of things in that box of dreams,

by the time I know it, smashed to the floor

again. Made me satisfied to learn emptiness.

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Two nights ago, I tossed left and right in my bed , restless and not knowing what I have been missing these past few days.  Isolation takes a toll and there are days that I can’t bear  the reclusivity.  Those were the days when I felt that I don’t differ to the things you can find in my room. A regular fixture, as if I am resembling to some  breathing machine with a pair of eyes traveling the whiteness of the ceiling.  I imagine the freedom of my mortal being mixing in the crowd around the city.  A stranger with an imaginary wall, like the others.

A study says that there is a silent epidemic  affecting millions of people, slowly killing and obliterates their very existence.  A persistent loneliness, that leads to severe depression due to non-interaction as a result of a person’s self-imposed isolation.  

People need inter-personal relationship with others.  In the world with the advancement of science and technology and the quick fix of web-based communication, people are making way to get connected, through multiple virtual identities impersonally.  Social networking groups in the Internet replaces actual person to person interaction and thus making the present generation  accustomed to getting glued to their computer screens, 24/7.

I admit that if I will not take steps to get out and mingle with others, I might succumb to the ill effects of my being passive and recluse.  That is why, it was a blessing that I have brought home something new in my life.  A living thing, but not a pet, since the landlord would not approve of any pets in the house.  It was a plant given to me by a friend, which has a life, and could share my space and can introduce me to first steps of rejuvenation.

If I can be able to take care for the plant and make it grow through constant watering, nourishment and exposure to sun and wind,  it can become a litmus test.  Wherein each new leaf that might sprang out of it signifies the measure of the heart ready to forge new meaningful relationship with people. A confidence that I can be able to nurture worthy life connection with them, in love and compassion.

The plant, will ever be a constant reminder, that people are not just things. People are people, who is capable of loving and be loved in return.

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I skipped my regular routine attending church services in the morning that Friday.  A week ago, I have already informed our pastor that I plan to attend the Industrial Area church service instead in the evening.  I also missed out our church choir practice that night, which I am so sad about. 

We braved the dusty road leading to Industrial Area. When we have arrived at the place, it was a regular accommodation building intended for company workers.  The road leading to the building is quite notorious with potholes and mountain of construction debris on the side.   We reach the worship place after winding up seven staircases worth of our stamina, of climbing the steps. The place of worship is located in the rooftop.  About 24 sq.m. approximately, capable of seating around 20 people, right there along with the clothesline of wet laundry left out to dry.

The truth is, I am not expecting it.  Of all places, to hold a church service.  A rooftop towering over other rooftops of factory buildings in the midst of desert wind and the usual darkness of the evening.  I am used to attending house of worship with the comfort of sheltering oneself against the external elements, such as rain, heat and dry wind.  That night is a wake up call.  Believers are called upon to honor the Sabbath, wherever, whenever and whatever it takes.  Be it under the shade of the tree, or under the canopy of the bridge, or an open field. 

I am deeply humbled by the fact that here in the wide stretch of the desert, away from the comforts of the homeland, people who are disciplined in faith, are braving the routinary grind of their overseas life, partially isolated to the urban centers.   This is mission’s work,  a life dedicated to the cause of bringing the Gospel to the far reaches of places.  Administering the continuous flow of the message and strengthening people’s faith in God.

I admire my pastor, who is a missionary himself, for the kind of passion he have for the lost  souls and bringing them all to Christian faith.   His silent ways are a steady yet constant reminder that complacency has no place in Christian service.  Believers are ought to steer clear of their comfort zones, sacrificing time and effort for building up Christ’s work and taking upon each the individual God’s calling in putting into action all the Christian training they have learned.

I admire my friend Grace, who chose to become a full-time missionary, while administering translation of the gospel to the native tounges of the tribes among the hinterlands of Mindanao and Luzon back home.  She already had the chance to go to India, for some introductory mission’s work as part of her trainings.

Sometimes, it is a pity, when I hear myself, complaining about being so tired to get up early in the morning to begin my morning prayers.  Sometimes, it is a pity, when I see myself, scrambling over reading best-sellers in the night rather than having a bible reading of a chapter or two. Now it occured to me, that what I am doing for the kingdom is not enough.  Christian life calls for able and willing men of faith to stand up and do the work.  Whatever the circumstances may be or a situation they are in. 

The next time, I will go to the Industrial Area to have my Friday church service there.  I need to listen to what God is saying to me, visually.

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