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010624

The beauty of Your Creation
speaks of who You are—
The art, the abstract, the purpose,
The meaning woven into all.
You hold every piece in Your hands,
And call it Your Masterpiece.

The gallery boasts not of its own depth.
The visitors pass through, entranced,
Some have not known the Artist,
But the patterns, from one work to the next,
Reveal His hand, His heart, His soul.

The Artist steps forward,
Presenting each piece to the naked eye.
But no one can claim them,
For they are His, and His alone—
A testament to His touch, His design.

Every piece has a story to tell,
One by one,
Some admiring the other,
Some passing by to the next,
Yet all are part of the grand design,
Each radiating its own magnificent beauty.

The balance, the harmony—
The Artist knows every detail.
He lingered over each intricate line,
Every stroke, every shape, every hue,
And He knows the angles where beauty hides,
In places the eye alone cannot see.

No glance is wasted, no hand unskilled—
Every piece a revelation,
A whisper of the divine,
A glimpse into the eternal,
Crafted with purpose, crafted with love.
010324

Ikaw —
Ikaw ang nag-iisang Pag-asa,
Ni hindi Mo ako binigo’t
Ni minsa’y hindi ako tinalikuran.

Sa bawat pagkakamali’y
Ni hindi Mo ako hinusgahan
Bagkus tanging yakap Mo ang naging sandigan.

Ikaw ang aking Pahinga,
Ang aking kalasag at kalakasan.
Sa Iyong mga Salita’y nabubuhay ako —
Nagiging bago ang lahat,
Nagiging payapa ang puso.

Sa tuwing isasandal ko ang aking sarili,
Sa’yo lamang ako nakakahinga,
At nagiging mahimbing ang aking pagtulog.
Ikaw ang lunas sa bawat sakit,
Walang duming hindi Mo kayang hugasan.

Ngayo’y nandito ako
Upang manghiram Sa’yo
Kahit alam kong hindi ko ito masusuklian.

Pahiram —
Pahiram ng lakas sa bawat araw,
Pahiram ng bagong pananaw
Nang ako’y makausad at makaahon.

Pahiram —
Pahiram ng hininga at sandali,
Pagkat hindi ko batid
Kung hanggang kailan lamang ang buhay.

Alam kong ang lahat ng sa akin ngayo’y
Tanging hiniram ko lamang Sa’yo
Kaya’t turuan Mo akong hindi angkinin ang mga ito.
Sa’yo ang lahat, at balang araw ay kukunin Mo rin ito
At ibabalik ko Sa’yo ang aking paghinga.

At ang tanging hiling ko’y
Mapapurihan pa Kita,
Maging malinis ang puso
Hanggang sa pagbabalik Mo.
Salamat — Salamat, Ama.
113024

Kalakip ng bawat salita
Ang mga balang ligaw na tumatagos sa katauhan.
Nakapiring at nakatali sa mabibigat na kadena,
Na para bang imposible na ngang kumawala.

Sa aking kadilima’y umaasa pa rin akong
Darating ang Liwanag
Na siyang magbubukas ng aking mga mata
At tutunaw sa bakal na kaytagal ko nang pasan.

Nauuhaw —
Nauuuaw ako sa Kalinga at Pag-ibig.
Napapagod —
Napapagod sa bawat kirot
At bakit hindi nyo pa ito itigil?
Ahhh! Ayoko naaa!!!!

Bagkus may boses sa loob kong
Tumatawag sa aking ngalan
Na minsan na nilang pinatikim ng alikabok
At binaon sa Hukay Ang natitirang halaga nito.

Dumaan ang mabangis na mga kulog at kidlat
At ang hangin ay naging payapa sa aking pandinig
At heto na nga marahil ang simula
Ng aking pinakahihintay —
Kung saan ang Liwanag Mo naman
Ang aking masaksihan.

Walang ibang yumakap sa akin nang ganito —
Binalikan Mo nga talaga ako.
At ang mga pangako Mo’y hindi napako,
Hindi nalusaw ng anumang unos at bagyo,
Ng anumang kadilimang ipiniring nila.

At ang tagal ko ngang naghintay
Ngunit ibang saya pala talaga
Ang makapiling ang tunay na nagmamahal,
Ang tunay na makapangyarihan sa lahat.

At hindi na nga mahalaga ang anumang nakaraan
Pagkat ang lahat ay bago na nga talaga.
Dumating ka na nga —
At handa na ako.
112724

Life drains me,
And as I search for the reasons,
I find only myself to blame.
The choices I made,
The chances I let slip away,
The endless wandering that carried me too far.

For a time, I hated myself.
I cried tears not meant for me,
Carried burdens that weren’t mine to bear,
And still, they left me—
Alone.
The pain lingers,
But you never abandoned me.

My strength comes from you.
My joy, too.
And as I lie in the quiet,
I sleep wrapped in your embrace,
You cover me,
You rescue me.

Is it only me you bless?
Is your grace meant for me alone?
What must I prove to myself
When my heart no longer beats
in rhythm with your approval?

May I never miss my portion,
The rainbows you’ve already prepared for me.
For when I laid my heart bare,
You found it.

You brought it back to life,
So that now,
I can love you more than I love myself,
More than those I hold dear.

Does it matter if my tears run dry for them?
Will eternity slip away
if I choose what you do not desire?
When will I find myself again?
When will my soul be satisfied?
112524

You left Your Throne for me,

Yet never lost Your sacred essence.

You came with purpose, burning bright —

To rescue me, to bring me light.

You are the Most High, the Messiah,

All power beneath Your sovereign feet.

No force, no darkness, no hellish scheme —
Nothing can sever what’s ours to keep.

The Cross is more than wood and nails,

It’s where You bled for all my sins.

You, Heaven’s Beloved, pure and true,

Yet still You chose to die for me too.

How unfathomable Your love is,

It floods my soul, a boundless sea.

I tremble, awestruck, in Your grace,

For You have made a way for me.

My love for You, I claim again,

And lay it at Your feet.

My days are far too few, I know,

Yet You promise me eternity
090424
@ CB

Will it ever matter if I don’t rhyme?
Will the symphony of my soul be brought to halt?
And if I ever stop chasing the seas,
Would I end up wandering
And be thrown into the lakes of uncertainties?

And when’s the time to speak up?
If no one would ever listen —
Their old windows were shut,
Will they ever roll up the blinds?

If I stop poetry,
Would they ever know?
Who would care if I lost appetite
And send petitions to heal my soul?

For many times I wonder
How the sun meets no end
But in the span of few hours
There’s no left in him —
And yet tomorrow is still his.

Some bids goodbye,
But some simply dive and never looked back.
They drive their own tires
But still missed out the trains.

Oh poor fellow,
They disgust with their own dirt.
Some picked up their mat
And already walked the talk
But some remained in silence
Hoping that one day, they’ll beg no more.

Some still plants the seeds they kept too long,
While some harvest what they toil.
And they’ll ask, “Will justice ever come?”
Some embrace the narrow roads —
Walking in silence and let go the gongs.
But some entered the wrong doors,
For their eyes are on fire
Throwing arrows from left to right.

A short of breath —
One sighs and one sleeps.
But the snap of the thunders,
The roaring of the mighty lion,
Aren’t they being disturbed?
081324

These days, I skipped my morning routines.
No coffee breaks, no late meals.
I lost not just the appetite for food
But also the appetite to mingle and crack some jokes.

So, it’s just me —
And this isolation was so familiar.
Just like the old days of resisting my “tiny self.”
The so-random thoughts don’t even help at all…
I was stuck in this shell and it wasn’t well-curated.

My body aches with the unknown tensions
And so I pulled the strings off my mind,
Stretched out my feet as hard as I can
But inside me was something severe —
Something I hated to encounter.

I speak to my body as I lay down
Turned on my favorite playlist in Spotify
Full of worship instrumental
And empowering podcasts
Calming my soul to take a pause and simply rest.

Goodnight to the bed bugs that bite
As I shake off the fluffy pillows on my feet.
Then I cover myself with a hand-me-down blanket.
The pain was intense
So I had to grab my pills to give myself a lesson.

I used to glide my left hand
Reaching out my French-bulldog
Named after HP’s Luna Lovegood.
But this time, I made her sad for not playing around.

I know, she’s tired of me too
We stared to each other for days
And all I can see was her scared eyes.
Most of the times, she jumps off her feet
But this was no longer the old times — she’s changed.

I went outside to breathe
But it’s like an open freezer to me.
I ***** when I eat and the aching doesn’t stop.
My body’s tired of murmuring her pleads...
I know and I can feel her
But I was not ready to comfort her.

I looked at the mirror with pale face.
Having tons of lippies can’t even paint my lips red.
I overthink when I’m upset
So my past time was to write —
It’s like an explosion of joy, anger, fear…
Did I forget the others from Inside Out?

The inner child within me was turned on,
And how could I stop her?
Should I play hide and seek?
I hope it’s the end game already
But I find this as my quiet place too.
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