The Rose That Grew From The Concrete

28 Mar
Copyright: Daydreamdaisies

Copyright: Daydreamdaisies

 

Here’s a painting of Tupac Shakur I finished the other day. I didn’t really have a burning passion for this guy’s music before picking up the brush since this piece started out as a present to my sister’s boyfriend. But its meaning soon became greater in my heart.

Tupac is one of those people who surprised me with his message.  I thought it was sex, drugs and bling bling combined with girls grinding shiny cars; in other words, the tool kit of many succesful (MTV) rapper. Oh, but how wrong was I.

Tupac speaks of bravery and of beating the odds. He encourages you to dream big, to journey on, to be resilient and to keep your head up. This man had many things to say, and many of them good. He had a tough life but still his voice rang clear and inspired many.

And guess what throws me and surprises me again and again?

The realisation that be your idol Jimi Hendrix or Susan Boyle, they’re all just humans. These inspiring, amazing people who we throw our dreams and knickers at in concerts.  These people who we look up to, they’re just people like us. Their hair gets greasy like ours and they have their bad days.

So if they are like us that means we are also like them. It means that the ability to inspire and comfort lives in all of us. We can reach out and touch someone’s heart. We can dream and make our dreams happen, if we only dare to. If we stop standing in our own way with doubts.

And even when life seems hopeless and dreams torn, there is still a way for us. Or have you not heard about the rose that grew from the concrete?

 

“Did you hear about the rose that grew from a crack in the concrete?

Proving nature’s law is wrong, it learned to walk without having feet.

Funny it seems, but by keeping its dreams

It learned to breathe fresh air.

Long live the rose that grew from the concrete

When no-one else ever cared.”

-Tupac Shakur 1971-1996

Small but significant

26 Mar

There has been many thoughts swirling in my mind lately, too many to find words for them. Big changes are happening, like the news that I get to move to Scotland next September to study in University of Edinburgh. I am so excited!

But today, I found my words again. I found my way back home, back here. The feeling was quite magical.

I was sitting on a bench by the sea, gazing out to the horizon. Wind started blowing wilder and as I sat there, I took a moment to just empty my mind. I closed my eyes for a while and I tried to inhale the light of the spring sun climbing higher. Slowly, the insides of my eyelids became patterned with patches of blue light. I assumed this to be the sky shining through to my vision. But as I opened my eyes, I found that the sea had broken free. Where before there had been just a vast, blank canvas of ice, a distant and cold glacier, there was now the sea. It was deep blue and it spread. I stood up and as I gazed at the sea growing, I felt that I was in a right place, at a right time. I belonged but I was free to go. I thanked the sea for making me feel whole.

Just before the sea broke out in the distance, I took this photo with my phone:

2013-03-26 13.49.39

You can see that little black figure on the left, under the big cloud? Not much bigger than a black dot. Smaller than the rocks, smaller than the skies. Well, that is you and me. That is a human being. Small maybe, but significant too. Cherished for its ability to love, for its foolish pleasure of treading on the ice. The ice, it carried this person into safety, into the land. Only then did the sea free itself.

And it reminded me of how we are part of this whole entirety, how it carries us in its chain, even when we feel or act like the weakest link. And of how we should always respect the nature, for we belong, for we are enveloped by it.

We can choose to be the sun’s mirror. We can choose to be a willow’s branch, bent by the wind but not snapping.

Love for life- Romantic Monday

25 Feb

Image source: http://www.forwardedemails.com I own no rights.

- The meaning of life is to live rich. To be courageous. Life is short and there’s many lives for us to live within that short time. Many places to see, many wells to peek in. You don’t have to jump straight into them all but at least take a look and see how deep the water is. Find what rich life means, to you. Is it money? No…

- Money might be riches in your wallet but what are the riches of the heart is a totally different matter.

- You’re right. So don’t be afraid. Go where your heart yearns to go.

 

Above is the conversation I just had with my neighbour. It came out of nowhere, as I was coming home from my walk. Out of nowhere came the words I needed to hear, the courage I needed to feel again. Who knew? Who knew that life can be this generous?

My neighbour did.  He had the wisdom. Now it has been passed on to me. And I wish to pass it on to you.

So I hope, I wish, I pray you feel blessed today. Just remember:

The love for life is the only love you need. Out of that love is all other love born.

 

I cradle the silence

I bow my head as life’s candle is lit

I can see the flame trembling

In the meandering trail of birds

Rejoicing in the cry of a newborn

My gaze, it answers to the infinity

My fingers run smooth

In morning’s blinding curtain

With gratitude

With freedom of breath

In laughter and in vehemence

They run and my hands

They lift me up

When I throw myself in between

The blades of thunder and light

I am the spark

Flaring, blazing

I am the warmth born

Where those two blades meet

I am life

Where swords of contrasts

Sometimes dash to fall

In love

If you feel tired, I hope your strenght is revived. If you feel happy, I hope you feel happier today than you did yesterday. I hope for peace to your soul. Better still, I believe in hope, happiness and peace. I believe in love. I believe in life. I even believe in Mondays.

Wishing you peace and love on this particular one!

Edge – Trifecta

23 Feb

 

Here’s what this weekend’s Trifecta is all about:

“This weekend we are playing another type of word game with you.  Below are photos from the 33rd page of one of our very favorite books, Elizabeth Strout’s Olive Kitteridge.  What we want you to do is to scour the page (click to enlarge), choose 33 words, and reshape those words into a piece of your own.  Your piece does not have to tell an entire story.  We just want to see what you can do with this particular word bank.  Punctuation is up to you.  Use whatever you need, whether or not it appears in the photos.”

 

 

I absolutely love this!  It has bones and flowers and children and rifles, such intriguing contrasts. Here’s the 33 words I chose:

 

Blackness carried him along

Wild woods of his mind

Starflowers so hollow-boned

Entrails of umbrage

Ripping, flapping panic

So hidden

Beneath the green leaves

He picked up the rifle

Edge of life came

By the way, I love you

21 Feb

Image source:
pickywallpapers.com
I own no rights.

 

So struck, stuck with feelings.

Feelings… Does that word make you quiver a little bit? Because it makes me sometimes.

That’s where I have been the past few weeks; feeling the days away. There’s been a lot going on, good stuff mainly and a bit not so good stuff, all merrily bunched up under an umbrella of overwhelm. I’m aware that ‘stuff’ is not exactly the frontier of articulation. But that is really why I’m writing this! To ask you:

Do you ever turn into a very promising BBC Weatherman or a woman wannabe? You know, when all you want to do is gag out how you feel.

But instead you find it is so much easier to state ‘What a lovely day it is’ to an elderly lady standing next to you on a bus stop.

Why is it so hard to tell someone that they’re precious, important, dear to you? Or that we’re hurt. Or upset. Why do we feel the need to hide our tears when we get emotional in the cinema or under a vast starry sky? 

We use by the ways and anyways and casual dressy phrases to turn our emotions into casualties. To shove them away.

But do we really need to hide?

We all cry, laugh, scream. We all feel. We all quiver. We all lose our bearings and words and freeze to the spot.

But the difference is, getting lost together is much more fun.

That way you have a hand there you can hold onto in the dark. And when the morning comes and you realise all the shadowy sounds were just your imagination, you can be the spark behind their smile. You can be a burst of laughter, a shrugh of relief. 

So now, if you let me take your hand again, I’d like to get lost with you. Lost in words:

 

Swimming by

 

We live by each other
We pass each other by
In silence
Casual by the ways
Seeping from our mouths
Our tongues parched papurys
Mute tombs, torn gardens
The longing spoon's clinking
Against our solitary coffee cups
As we drink black mornings
We stir through them alone
So careful not to twist our ankles
In the craters of perplexion
We scatter behind, ahead
As we live by
Goodbyes never uttered
Words trickling through our fingers
Like sand taken away
By the waves
Salty ocean tears, rocky boats
Duct-taped souls
So clumsily fixed and ripped
Open
By the tempest
The nature pulling us out
Thunderstruck
Our eyelids
Heavy curtains
Thrown up
White phantoms swimming
In the air
Finally
So light to look
So light to see
A flash of simplicity
Lightning bolt scarring the sky
Pain passing so swift
Leaving our hearts to be
In peace
Reaped by the dawn
We reach
Bring our hands forward
Open bold barefaced
We live
We live
We live by love

Clockwork

7 Feb

 

 

Life is a miracle full of smaller miracles. Every dandelion is a miracle. Every minute is a miracle being born. Every tiny organism is a miracle. You are a miracle, your body is.

Your body isn’t just inches and pounds, fat and muscle. It is so much more: It is baby heartbeats, it is air filling your lungs, thoughts playing in your brain. You’re so many things, you’re so much. And you can be so much more, life can.

Because life never stops flowing. It is like a river:

Even when the temperature drops, river braves on. Even if the river finally freezes, it is just a passing illusion. Ice can never kill off river’s core, its heart. Under the ice that river still keeps on flowing. Even if it is invisible, it is alive.

Your life is that river. River of miracles and opportunities, encounters and goodbyes, surprising acts of kindness, soul-sweeping smiles.

Life loves you.

Every morning it wakes you up, takes your hand and proposes to you. But sometimes it can be like a forgetful child, wondering so far that you shake and panic.  But those moments are just life’s little insecurities, magic tricks,  temporary vanishing acts. So don’t worry.

Because life is never as far as it seems to be. In fact,  you cannot lose it. It is inside you.

At times your skin might be ice, but your heart can never freeze.

 

Clockwork

 

Somewhere

On a riverbend

She sits and builds bridges

With her gaze

Between night and day

Between sun and rain

Water circulates

Swirling reflections

Absentminded cartwheels

On her face

But she smiles

Waits, inside anticipates

That chime of spring

A beginning bearing

A sense of an ending

Life’s ring in her reach

So she smiles

From somewhere

Gains an answer as he sighs

Crouching on Autumn’s porch

Picking pastel shells

On the seaside

Picking summer’s last smiles

Sunset’s candy floss streaks

Like drawings of a child

Water circulates

Swirling reflections

Dancing light wrinkles

On his face

Till the moment c0mes

The sea is calmed

Its storms tucked away

Under soothing ice

And they wonder

What glacier, what force

Clockwork of nature

Will finally bend their souls

Their young, wonderous vows

To rest beside

The sleepy willow branches

Drooping lower

Past their eyes

Once so lively leaves

Falling into memories

Growing death

3 Feb
Image source: dailymail.co.uk

Image source:
dailymail.co.uk

Growing death

 

Your dainty body
Immured in goodbyes
A dry, silent pleading
Lolling out of your mouth
Your swollen tongue
And taste buds
Like overripe berries
Bursting
In their longing
To be covered with a blanket
Of fresh air, once more

In answer
I brought your hands
To my lips
Kissed them into a handloom
Allowed my warm breath
To become a spinner
Diving for your wish
To find it nestling
In the gullies of time
Lining your palm
I gave them all my air
Till they were fresh valleys
And your green eyes suddenly
Wet grass glistening

Then I took a deep drink
Inhaled your soul
Drew out of you
A raindrop thread of life
Pieced it gently together
With my teeth, felt it
A Nightjar flapping
Pushing dawn along
With its wings
Your wings
Curled to rest on my tongue
I ran, ran, ran
Out to the open

There I freed you
Blew you out, head rushed
So you could feel again
The sprinkle of spring
In the air
That was when
I heard a deep gasp
The whole landscape
Sucking its breath
To welcome you
That was when
I understood the halo
Life’s perfect mosaic:

Your smile
Bowing like a rainbow
On the sky
Tying together the miracles
Of earth and air
Your mouth open
To greet the delicate taste
Swirling in the wind
The taste of overwhelming
Overflowing, growing life
You, laid to rest
With the whole world
Imprinted on your eyelids

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