So there I was, weeks ago.
Heart was torn and blue, broken and emptied.
Walked away from what caused this much pain, willing it to just stop, oh just please stop, even for just a moment.
Sailed away from responsibilities and grown up things and vanity in modernity, just wanting a way out.
I found myself here in this vintage bed where I first say your name, where I told you who You are to me.
I thought I could find you here, only, but you whispered as you always did, ‘I am always with you.’
And You filled me with you, laughter from my roots.
It’s you, I thought I’d cry from sadness of things I lost, but You make me cry with joy just knowing that You are still who You are to me when I first met You, my best friend.

Your greatness is unfathomable.
I could dig and even dig deeper with all my might but no matter how much I try, Your ending is just out of sight.
You are just you, the Great I Am.
Your peace is beyond understanding, it soothes my inner being.
Fear may blur my pathway time and again but it is Your Love, it quites my soul.
Your grace and mercy, it is Your loving gaze, they follow me wherever I go, and Your mighty hand that helps me stand whenever I falter.
Your words, they cut through me. Yes, they are that two-edged sword my heart just gladly holds on to.
And You satisfy me like nobody else could, it is Your salvation.
My heart will always be thankful in who You are.
And You just keep on igniting the fire in me saying, “There is so much more.”

In this waiting area I choose to wait patiently.
Since my feet is getting tired walking in circles in hopes of going somewhere I ought to belong.
I choose now to wait because waiting ought to make me strong.
Young and old, thin and fat. Yes, they come and pass me by.
Some smile, some frown. Ah, it is here in waiting that I see them who make the world go round.

What if people who died in the 70’s would come to live with us for a day?
We would have to make ends meet and make them see how we turned out to out differently from the time they once lived.
We could only imagine how they would try to relate with our unending selfies and making those social networking sites a great big a diary from their negative rolls of negatives and telegrams.
How they would scold us for not being how they were and being us.
We would come to realize that the world is intertwined to change through time.
For while the times changed, the world does too, and we judge them by eras and years.

Poetry is like a playground where I get to play with lots of words through memories and life events dear to me.

It's the unspoken feelings and unsung emotions I get to paint through various letters beautifully combined into words to describe how much beauty there is in the life that was created for me even before the creation of the world.

So find where your beautiful soul lies, sing your own heart's song, and paint your own dreams, make the world more colorful, more beautiful.

And together let us bless the Great Creator, the ancient of Days, who thought of us and found us beautiful among the heavenly bodies and all the wonders in all the galaxies now exist.

I have known a lady behind that of a loner
Of whose face so gloomy no one can flatter
Of whose lips a smile can not master
Her name no one wants to utter.

Yet for it is the Day of the Great Favor she lives in
When a gift to her has been given
More precious than gold
Oh! So much precious than pure gold.

It was the King of the Land's only Son
To be her  Lover to end her lonely hour
Though she is not a worthy one
But the King declared that she shall be the One.

I found a note of long ago promises
Made of words like smoke floating into nothing
Yea! it was foolishness but my eyes were blinded
I thought of it as sweet as chocolate
But its sweetness is temporary
bitterness of pain remains
with that of our long ago promises.
With maturity, I come to realize
never build love with words of fairytales, fantasies & make believe,
never build love with words of promises that were never made to come true...
rather, build love with words of willingness to wait for the rightest time