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Posts Tagged ‘trust’

No, I didn’t wrote this as a reminder

that you need to return what you have borrowed.

Or should I say I have borrowed it too-

for awhile.

 

You see, you borrowed trust and confidence,

indeed I strip beyond that skepticism-

people keeps promises. But not you.

Oh, you’ve always been

a heartbreaker of sorts.

 

Breaking closed doors

without entering and stealing

what is not yours as if you own it.

And you don’t admit in gratitude

 

that once you’ve been a beggar

of affection. Love that’s unconditioned

beyond love for oneself. And it’s me,

apparently, who have become broke.

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My hands perspire from the grip

I need to loosen up.  Bringing in the air

to these burning palms laid down from commanding-

life directions in the intersection of good and bad.

The right from wrong.  I twist and turn in indecision.

Bending  and yielding.  Speeding up and slowing down.

I try to break down the clods of earth

from forming  into mounds of rock.

I try to make a path through the grass

and keep the weeds from growing.

 

I try to calm down my reflexes and think

that the tyres won’t leave the road

and it’ll continue chasing the horizon

until that cul-de-sac to begin again

turning in circles. I gave up the throne,

to allow the changing of hands

of the driver seat into that passenger,

I surrender for the first time. Watching

someone else’s lording over the brakes 

and keep moving the distances away.

Away from  myself.  Trusting.

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We have cried together, seeing

the pages of our lives torn into pieces.

And how we knitted to rebuild it,

and washed them like dirty linens

in the laundry. Just like a potter

we build and sculpt in us

a new mold of the world

we never knew existed.

 

We exchanged our boxes

of secrets and a set of keys.

 

We swore by the heart. And

made a vow that we would keep

them locked and tightly sealed.

That we would be keeping each

other’s stories, only to ourselves

and no one else. And for the longest

possible time, it  has come to a point,

a reckoning. The seal of promise

had been broken.

 

Unlocking my box and spilling

the foam of words into little teardrops-

they fall like brimstones and fire

from the night sky, now. And the moon

must have hidden its face turning

into red, in anger and in shame. Bleeding

in the agony of a broken promise.

An impending death to a friendship.

 

Still, I am keeping my silence, thinking deeply

if it is worth to hide your keys in my pocket?

If keeping your box tightly sealed, or at once,

let them out in the open, will exact revenge?

While my flesh quivered at the thought

of why would you dare crossing the line,

betraying my trust. While my bones splintered

at the thought that I would dearly want you

squirm in your own bloodbath, redeeming self.

 

But I decided not to. 

 

Letting the ghost of your betrayal haunt you down

into your grave. A tormented soul, wandering

the dark halls searching for some kind of atonement.

Asking forgiveness.

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I can tell

that you begin to affect me

with words. Waxing emotional

in this little chat. I gave you

painful seconds each time

whining those lame excuses.

While I’m faking.

 

You didn’t notice

how I read and begin

to memorize your way

of masking the shame

in these crying games.

Only to find that words

have no meaning

and will fall dead

sounds to my ears.

Believing

 

I found an ocean.

Of reason proving

my every doubt-

if all the things you said

are ever real?

 

The distance between us

became mountain upon mountain

of shadows blurring

my wall of trust.

You didn’t notice.

 

Lie resurfaces again.

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I was on my way to a restaurant that late afternoon to meet a friend, hurrying and my mind was filled with gloomy thoughts. My mind just wandered aimlessly, battling inner fears. 

Rebel as I was, it seems that I am all wearied and fighting against the world, crushed in the agony of my self-defeat- I succumbed into powerlessness.  I have met a familiar darkness of my soul once again. In such a long time.

I am depressed that day.  Defeated by reason. I am filled with anger emblazoned across my face.  That day- I am not the usual masquerading, self-hiding chameleon in the cloak of coolness and charm.  I am likened to a ticking bomb.

I have questions.  And lots of them.  As endless as the broken road markings. My combatant nature would never accept any kind word- even from the most endearing. That was one time I had feared myself the most- who is capable of hurting myself.  Like a jagged knife ready to cut the ventricles of humanity in me.

Somewhere,  in a sudden mysterious way, I heard a helpless chirp.  I stopped and started searching the source  by my side.   And I have found a little bird, that has fallen from a bird’s nest from the nearby palm tree and landed on the ground.  It is too early for the little bird to take flight.  My hardened composure melts gradually into a compassionate being.  How on earth, this hapless sight would pour a cold, cold ice to my raging soul?

Then suddenly, out of nowhere, a stray cat emerged. Prowling as if it is finding something to devour.  In my quick thinking, I immediately snatched the little bird from the ground, rescuing it from danger. From harm and from the claws of the enemy-  so vicious and lethal.

Just when I thought, that what  I did, is the right one, I felt a sudden pain.  A stinging one.  The little bird had bitten me.  Surprised as I was, I accidentally dropped the bird away farther  into the ground. Then the next thing I heard is a scuffle in the bushes until the hopeless chirping stopped.

I am overwhelmed.  I just stand there and was filled with a sudden grief.  I can’t believe that life has been snatched away from my very hands.  The life of a fragile creature. A tragic lost.  Tears quietly streamed down my face until it became flood as pent-up emotions surged and overpowered my anger like a dam  breached loose.

That moment, I wonder,  how vivid  this circumstance made my soul saved from drowning and wallowing in despair?  My life, I learned, can be like the hopeless little bird, compared to a  child out of God’s hand.  How powerful can God teach me a great lesson, a stiff-necked person as I am, who never learned from His admonishing?   The questions that I have over-analyzed  for years has crumbled under the weight of God’s wisdom which is mightier than what I can comprehend.

Like a prodigal son who came back to his father’s arm, I did the same coming home to what God has purposed me to belong.  With the lesson of that hopeless little bird, I just knew that my life on earth rest only on His hands.  All I needed to do is to have an unwavering faith and complete trust on Him.  And God has impressed to me to stay in His dwelling place as long as I live.

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Somebody asked me if it is true, that my age is way past 30’s.  I just told them the truth, nothing less. Maybe it’s just a way to amuse me further, when they thought I am just 26 or something.  But really, inside me is just so younger than what my real age is. I believe that even if we age, one must try to keep a youthful attitude towards an inspiring life.

But folks, I am also into thinking sometimes. It is only roughly eight more years before I reach the 40’s. Don’t misconstrue that I am experiencing some mid-life crisis.  I am just trying to think ahead and be wise about the decisions I have to take in the future. 

Things now are uncertain, but I would like to push myself into realizing the artistic pursuits which I am  always aspiring to do.  I would pursue more frequently my writing. I would pursue more frequently my painting.  I would pursue learning music most especially playing piano. Or maybe, I would get myself involved into the academic work or consultancy work. Or on a more grander scale, I would do missions work  or to be with an NGO group.

Some may think that the things I hope for the future are too ideal.  Unprofitable and would not generate any substantial monetary investment for me.  Which partly is true, but I have learned not to trust too much on these things.  I still abide to put my trust in God, who knows much more than I am, and the One who knows about the future that I have to take.

I am optimistic that eight years before the 40’s is much a life ahead.  There’s just so much more things that can happen. I would only strive to pick or select the things which matters and inspiring me to be thankful of the years passing.  But on the other hand, I too myself, is being realistic, in the sense that I do not know until when will I have to live more.  Nobody knows.  So I try not to attach myself on things.  Because things are just passing. It can be lost. It can fade to obscurity.

What matters most, is that I have lived a life that is fulfilling and enriching.  That I have given myself selflessly to a worthy cause which imparts love, compassion  and commitment to others.  That I have inspired others to live life on simple terms and have faith to the One who is omniscient of all.  

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