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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:

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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

A Reckless Fall – Romantic Monday Part II

28 Jan
Image source and rights:dailybitsofbeauty.com

Image source and rights:
dailybitsofbeauty.com

 

Okay, this piece is something a bit different.  I actually wrote it yesterday, in a rush of creativity, but then got a bit scared to share it. Is it too simple, too different from my other pieces?

But then again, isn’t that what love sometimes is? So simple you can’t rationalise it? You can only feel it.

Love is cooking dinner to someone and being able to make their potatoes taste like caviar. Because when that someone tastes those potatoes, what they really taste is their love  for the hands that peeled them. And that makes those humble spuds diamonds in their eyes.

No wonder Gordon Ramsay is always so picky. He should quit the shouting for a bit and try some love.

Here goes, I’m going to brave myself.  Hope you like it!

 

A Reckless Fall

 

Lately

I’ve been locking myself to toilets

So I can smile in peace

Remember again

Your stare rocking my insides

Then lean against the dirty tiles

To gain some balance

But secretly trying to just

Drop through them

Surrender to that rushing sweet fear

A reckless fall of anticipation:

Will you catch me?

Will you smile at my lipstick?

I know, I put on too much

In purpose

So you can keep kissing it away

For a bit longer

 

Peace and love to all of you!

xx

Hummingbird Blinks – A Romantic Monday post

28 Jan

 
Again our favourite day of the week! Or if you still think Mondays are dull, click here and see what kind of  fantastic poetic love-rave is happening every week! It has cured me from my Monday syndrome permanently.

Nothing like a good dose of love and writing to keep you smiling, eh?

 

Hummingbird Blinks

 
Your eyes, their golden hue

Grasps at my past

That chameleon cocktail

Scattered across my mind

Memories in ruin

Like blazing terracotta ash

Now changing their skin

Cooled by green-tinted twilights

Your knees, magnets of spring

Fresh grass running to stain them

Your gaze,  holding me in place

As I grow mesmerised

By  the little vapours of breath

Escaping your lips

Their shadows in the evening air

Like a phoenix rising

To cover me with its wings

Then we startle ourselves

Awake again

With hummingbird blinks

Watch shy smiles being born

And in that akward suddenness

My breath too is relieved

Finally pushing past the past

To become mixed with your breath

A love potion stirring in the wind

Seeing Human – Art In Perspective

25 Jan

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I have come to realise why we need art so badly. Why our writing and photos and thoughts are so important.

Because art, be it painting with words or brushstokers or using a camera lense as your guiding eye, is essentially a rebirth.

In art, you can lose yourself and find yourself again. It is about losing your perspective, stepping into new stories, meeting the stranger inside you. But miraculously, it is also about gaining perspective. How many times, after a good art-bath, have you emerged with clearer sight or a fresh angle?

That is the magic of art, writing, photography. You are free, yet grounded at the same time.

Your pen, your camera or paint tube is a solid compass in your hand. But for once, you can let yourself go. You can build storms and tsunamis in your mind, kiss a stranger passionately, live in a French film and smoke too much, you can make big look small and small look big. You can make anything. You can change your skin. And when you return to yourself, quite often you find that art has taken you somewhere different.

Art is seeing human. It is peeking inside yourself and reaching outside yourself, at the same time. It makes you want to keep your eyes open. Makes you want to wonder and understand.

Holding art in your mind is like having lemon juice on your tongue. It prickles. And when you feel that prickle, it’s impossible to forget that you’re alive. That’s why I love art so much, in all its forms.

But what is art to you?

 

Seeing human

 

Wisdom

Is looking out for the small

The baby hairs covering sore temples

The caged pulse and bloody cuticles

Looking through anger

And seeing human, remembering

Even iron has its melting point

 

See life today! Peace and love.

Lingering – Romantic Monday

21 Jan

Into The Horizon Logo

 

Right at this moment, someone is being kissed. Someone smiles. Someone falls in love.

Someone utters their goodbyes and walks away,  tucks an escaped string of hair behind their ear, for safe-keeping. Till the day comes they find love again, find that they have picked that abandoned string of hair up and are twirling it around their finger, daydreaming.

Right now, someone is dreaming. And someone’s dreams come true. Someone says I do. Or somewhere, a baby cries out for the first time.

For love never ends. Not even when it’s silent. It only pauses to catch its breath, to start again.

 

Wishing you a hopefilled Romantic Monday!

 

Lingering

 

Your echo alive on my pillow

In hair and teardrops

Those little ripples of closeness

You left behind

Rising to waves in my sleep

Mirages of waterfalls

You pooled out of your eyes

A cry of goodbye so strong

I can still feel your tears

Watering my dreams

Droplets of your life

Flowing in me

On my skin, at night

Reflecting the shine of shooting stars

A glitter blanket of love