Posts Tagged ‘sunrise’

Think about the pen and the fingerprints

romancing in the glistening dust against the sunlight.

The faded photographs with watermarks

of remembrances salvaged from the past.

Brittle to touch and slowly turning to ashes.


Think about the bookmarks of dried rose petals

and the faint smell imprinted to the pages,

rescued from the years of forgetting the ones

that mattered most. And the dreams that never

meant to be owned like the earth where I stand.


If the promise of coming back becomes a distant memory-

counting each sunrises and every new moons. Let hope

travel its feet while I sit beside by the window waiting.

For innocence will turn my graying hairs to white

and youth will leave me like the wilted leaves of autumn.


The season changes and they say time heals every wound.

But the scars of our love-thorned lives remains relived

in our book of days. I wish the summer winds will carry

the ashes until forgetting. I wish sleep will banish the things

which I failed to tell you when you left me. I moved on.


I have written letters with the pen until it dried out of ink

I have recorded our memories for fear that it will be lost too.

And my waning mind gave birth to words I have bookmarked

with fresh flowers that blooms from the same earth I will lay

with my dreams. I am not afraid anymore of the longest night


until tomorrow.

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In the old quarter of the city,

in the nakedness of the cold walls

of this back street. I sit alone, outside.

Here. In the almost empty corner of the café.

Looking beyond many mornings

distant, from the crowd.


There is something.

In the stale morning air that reminds me

of one strange midnight.


A quiet conversation of two souls

connecting among the silver teaspoons,

teacups and porcelain.


Exchanged glimpses of a period

when things are new, young and free.

Reliving a story of the jaded past

within a single stretch of hours

waiting for the sunrise.


There is something-

which I failed to grasp

and took hold of.


Something in the dust-filled glass windows.

The peeled off paint from the ceiling.

The wallpaper shedding its ancient skin.

The tattered leather and cushions

of these vintage chairs.


There is a memory of a voice fading

like the sheen from this worn-out table.

Among the bread crumbs for the pigeons to share.

And this bronzed cup leaving off a tinge-

a certain warmth I could not forget.

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The clock strikes the twelfth hour.

As the familiar sound of wind chimes signals

another year of moving on,  slow and steady.

Remembering the images of the man

within the constant, shifting revolutions

of sunrise and sundown in this woman’s life.


Witnessing how lifelong travels have ended,

forging across countless dinnertime of growing old.

Around the fireplace, rekindling romance.

Recalling the stories of the fishermen,

of sailors down the Mediterranean.

Of cowboys in the Wild West

and the wildlife in Africa.

Of the mystical journeys

from the sands of Arabia

to the sands of Samarkand.


Those intimate exchanges of lofty dreams

and grand ambitions traveling marvelous

distances of north going down south.

The eastern spring and the wintry west.

Witnessing how she listened. And almost

forgot the difference, whether it is

the story of this man’s life in the stories.

Or simple make-believe.


Witnessing how she wobbled achingly

at her feet standing up and lighting a candle,

whispering a prayer. Memories became

mighty flexing arms reaching out for the years.

Discovering the man who makes her laugh

and who makes her cry the silent tears.

Witnessing a love that will never grow old.

Those quiet devotion as ageless and tireless,

pacing along with the hands of time.

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before sunrise…

I saw you there among the horizon, peering through the breaking of the first light. That gentleness like the morning star had me longing for more.  More of you from the previous night. Let me embrace you like the feathery clouds in their afterglow. How serene am I in your bosom. Not a care in this world.

in the harborfront…

I am here standing at the boardwalk. Waiting for your ship to come. With the seagulls hovering above me and the seawaves frolicking along the breakwater. I have been here since your last voyage. Of chasing your dream and your freedom. But I have learned to let you go, and learned how to have hope. That you will come back to me. You will.  And I am waiting still.

across the desert…

Like how the wind shapes the dunes, so your tenderness. Lovely as your affection embrace me in the moonlight. A thousand and one nights of dream. We are sharing the stars and the Orion guides us to discover the many secrets of our togetherness. I will sit here with you and let the wind softly whisper my heart’s song.

driving down the mountain…

Lovers we are among the long grass. I am driving down this maze, of finding a way to your heart.  Keep you lingering in my mind and I never stop from wondering.  Upon these rocks, the many faces of love etched by time. And stood witness to my deep devotion to you. I shouted your name out in the cliffs, and it echoes and created a lover’s melody.

watching the sunset…

Why do I feel sad, whenever the sun bades goodbye?  Why do I feel sad when the sun finally vowed out among the ridge in the distance? Am I afraid that the memory of you will also leave me too soon? Even if I tried to stop the hands of time from turning, I am in my sweet surrender.  But I know, that someday, in another time, in another place, there will be you and me.  I know that even if it’s not me who is there with you, I will always wanted what makes you happy.  And it is enough that I have loved you the way I could.


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Yesterday is the longest day of my life.  It has compacted the years into small capsules of time that I tend to forget the stitch in of each events. Bewildered, how my memory had the tendencies to replay the scenes as crisp as they were.  And the details are flashed to the most stunning of vivid colors and dreamy sequences like in a movie.

The most lovely time I had,  would be replaced by now.  I used to say, 3:00 o’clock in the afternoon is my favorite time of the day.  But now, I have got to change my mind, it’s 3:00 o’clock in the morning. 

Deliberately, I framed up myself to get a three-hour bus ride taking me to the province. And in the early morning chill off I go, knowing that by that time I will witness the grandest show on earth, the sunrise. I have longed to see the sun breaks in all its naked glory, like an angel waiting for the sunrise. In the past months in Manila, I would always wake up 9:00 o’clock in the morning, without witnessing how dramatically the sun could keep me company.

In the bus, I have got the luxury to choose templates of my past memories. It hops back and forth like a story thread of anytime, anyhow and anywhere. Heightened by the symphony of the bus humming its rhythms and grooves as it wheeled through the highway. Plus the dopplerian effect of lights flashing through the window glass would make each memory worth a slide in a film.

I am most humbled. I have become the moviegoer in an empty cinema. No one will ever disturb me in my reverie, I said to myself.  And the story has now becoming untamed, and it merges into the streams of wondrous reflection. Like an image in the water, it distorts and becomes clear again.

Before long, my fixation to the blurred images in the horizon created a locomotion. A foreboding. That the book of days still got some pages to fill.  And it is up to me to look beyond and hope. A hope that there gonna be a new breaking of the day. New passions to pursue. New milestones.

And there it was, the stillness.  The softness.  The holiness. Where the  morning light had embraced the landscape. Giving life to each. Touching. Big things. Small things. The living.  And the lifeless.

Its like an ode that awakens each creature to stand and witness. The sun’s first golden rays. A glory to behold. I shed a tear because I am genuinely happy. And my dream to witness a sunrise has been granted by time.  It has now appeared to me as a reality interplaying in my happy thoughts.

Come what may, I will not forget. This symbol of the sunrise would be an anchor for me. That I will be safe and sound no matter what crossroads I may get into. That regrets will have no space.  Only hope.  It’s gonna be better days ahead.

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