Back here

Where we lived for years,
I walked home
The way we used to walk home,
Under the softening cloak of years.

Funny, how memory
Is shaped and reshaped
By our moods.

Today,
I was upbeat.
But that is an understatement.

Once more,
The images of happier times
When we were content...
No, changed that to happy,
Simply being able to eat
At SM's food court
Caught me unawares.
The laughter.
The joy.
The delight in simple comforts.

But upbeat turns to downbeat.

Where have they all gone?

Now, i can treat us
To the best fine dining restaurant in town.
Order the best course it could offer
And not mind how our bottom line will be affected.
Take us to places undreamed of before
Which i know would fill your heart with joy.

There were things i know
I caused you pain.
Terrible.
Insufferable.
But we were able to go through that.

If only you had waited,
Had not been afraid what might happen
Back here in our country,
Me being over-aged apparently
For any good job to come.

If you have not doubted
That the Lord knows best.

Perhaps,
Just perhaps,
We might still be together
Smiling at how things turned out
In a way we never thought of.
The way things turned out
Unexpectedly before
That made us marvel
At how God works,
At how better things
Were arranged for us.

At how God answered our prayers
So that even those who didn't believe
Rejoiced with us.
Jokingly said that they
Would start praying too.

Perhaps,
we would be laughing hard
At how sillly we were
To ever worry.
To ever doubt.

Back here in a place
You didn't want to leave before.
Back here were painful memories
And beautiful remembrances converge.

Back here.

Knowing

The lashes from whips of braided leather thongs
With sharp shards and metal *****
That would rip your flesh
Tear out the tendons
Shredding your skin
Down to your spine
And all over you
Not just once
But over and over and over again
Till your whole body
Is wracked with agony

The terrible pain
Of thorns made out to be a crown
Rammed down your head
Violently

The excruciating pain
As you hang on the cross
With limbs out of joint
As you ****** your feet up
To gasp for air
The nails tearing out your already torn feet
Locking up against the tarsal bones
Your shredded skin on your back
Grating against the rough wooden cross

The terrible thirst of your body drained of water
And bitter sop given in derision instead
Until you die slowly

Breathless

Knowing all these
And wanting the cup to pass from you

Still you willed not what you will
But willed the Father's will!

And so must I

the years pile up gently
as snow upon snow pile up
on snow laden ground.
you wake up one morning
still with sleepy eyes
to see the view from your window
still the same
yet somewhat changed
from the landscape you saw before you went to bed last night.

you jog your head,
to drive away
the lingering laziness in your bones,
smiling at a half remembered dream
where you were flying through the sky
dodging the telephone and electrical wires
that crisscrossed the path of your flight,
and whispered a silent prayer,

you get up your bed.
reaching out with heavy limbs
to the pair of sandals
lying on the floor
and trudge out of your cozy room.

you look at the mirror
(at a landscape still unfamiliar?)
and frown
(or smile?)
at some added lines
creasing the sides of your eyes:
a view more subtly changed!

a year is gone,
another is on the run.
count your life if you may
in ages
old traditional way
but, mark it off proudly
with words:

painful, prayerful, purposeful,
incisive, iniquitous, imperial,
eclectic, electric, effervescent,
dolorous,  delirious, devious,
singular, simple, (sinful?),
frenzied, frivolous, feral,
tepid, tremulous, turbulent,
ludicrous, libidinous, lugubrious,
zany, zennish, zinged,
barbaric, beatific, bucolic,
and so on and so forth.

words that are sensual, soulful, spiritual,
     that moved your heart ,
     that moved our hearts.

words to remember you by.

be happy.
feel blessed.
it is your birthday!

Oh, pity, pity him
For whom the universe speaks
Yet only of futility;
Who only sees the second law of thermodynamics
Inexorable –
    All suns dying of a slow, slow death,
    Then nothingness;
Who sees the nebula only as a splintered sphere
    The big bang before its final whimpering!

Oh pity him who cries,
    “The world is dew,
    And yet…
    And yet…”

If all that rules the universe
Is chance, mere chance,
    Why sing a lullaby for a new born babe?
    Why rage against the dying of the sun?

Oh weep, weep for him
For whom the firmaments proclaim
    No god at all,
    Not even man!

“The heavens proclaim the glory of God…”

What birds they were,
I do not know.
But being birds as they were
They flew up high
Riding the wind,
Sailing through the sky
Relishing the pure delight
In being simply what they were.

Why they flew up high
Gathering above where I can see them
As if to enthrall me with the Great Dance
I do not know.

But they came
Dazzling against the sky.

One by one
In pairs
And groups of threes or more
Until they filled the heavens.

Until I became as they were
Filled with the sheer joy
Of simply being
Who I am!

Dawns I like
Best, when a thin mist hangs
Reluctantly rising as warm wind blows.
Leaves rustle as wakened birds
Test reality: chirping, hopping, swooping
Down and up.
    
Dew-drops fall.
Tiny globes of light that glisten,
Streaking down,
Sending shivers to
Unwary spines,
Surprised!

Sea of green,
Studded with diamonds of dew
Glimmering
Against the growing light,
Damp to bare foot,
Needles pricking.

Silvery lake
Shimmering,
Rimmed with the silhouette of a lazy mountain,
Draped with a mantle of purple blush,
Slowly reddening,
Traces of gold, glowing …
      
     Hush, now, hush,
     The sun is rising!

Quiet Time

Dawns I like
Best, when a thin mist hangs
Reluctantly rising as warm wind blows.
Leaves rustle as wakened birds
Test reality: chirping, hopping, swooping
Down and up.
    
Dew-drops fall.
Tiny globes of light that glisten,
Streaking down,
Sending shivers to
Unwary spines,
Surprised!

Sea of green,
Studded with diamonds of dew
Glimmering
Against the growing light,
Damp to bare foot,
Needles pricking.

Silvery lake
Shimmering
Rimmed with the silhouette of a lazy mountain
Draped with a mantle of purple blush
Slowly reddening,
Traces of gold, glowing …
      
      Hush, now, hush,
      The sun is rising!


"the good man walks along  the ever brightening light of God's favor,
dawn gives way to morning splendor." Proverbs 4:18

Nothingness.
Imagine nothingness.
That nothingness which is nothing of the nothingness we are all familiar with:
Not that nothingness which is nothing but empty space and time
Like when you open an empty room.
No.
That nothingness where nothing truly exists:
Not space,
Not even time.

A singular point.
Imagine a singular point.
The ultimate singular point that contains all possible points
In the development of the universe
Come out and expand
From the birthing of time, the instance of The Big Bang,
(Which by the way is not a large explosion, as the words imply, but a silent rapid expansion)
Pushing the envelope
Where nothingness begins.

Chance.
Imagine chance.
The random occurrence of events:
Of fundamental particles colliding and uniting
Or annihilating each other,
Giving rise to protons, neutrons and electrons;
Giving rise to the periodic table,
To compounds, both organic and inorganic,
To macromolecules.

Billions of years.
Imagine billions of years
Gone by,
And billions of galaxies filling the sky:
Stars and quasars and pulsars
Planets and comets and meteors
***** nilly hurtling through
Dark matter and ever expanding space,
Yet inanimate still
,
A single cell.
Imagine a single cell
Form inexplicably so,
In a staggeringly highly improbable way
As carbon molecules combine,
Start to throb and pulsate:
Chance bringing forth life
In a barren and otherwise
Lifeless universe.

Consciousness
Imagine consciousness
Purposive, willful, deliberate

Feelings
Imagine feelings
Love, compassion, hatred

Imagine all in a universe that came out of itself from nothingness.

It is hard, of course,
For after all, we are creatures of somethingness!

But at this point
You must have seen the Point
Of all the ramblings and turns in the trajectory of my thought
Tracing the evolutionary course of the universe
From nothingness and that singular point
That without God
All things are
After all
Pointless!
.
And so,
Let us not deplore, as a great poet once did,
That this world “so various, so beautiful, so new
Hath no joy, nor love, nor light
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain…”
For what else should we expect
Of a cold, unfeeling universe?

What?
Give us some Novocain?