She is all set for her walk under the sun, there, in her own private spot, where she is free to
ponder on the past and the coming days....but, this morning, rain pours steadily, in fine drops...
thin drops falling obliquely, like bits and pieces of torn pages...stubborn, insistent, bouncing
back to the present...
...torn pages of pleasant days and summer fun, many nights of summer moons...when on one
warm evening, she stood by the window, and gazed at a distant blue star, glittering, hanging from a dark sky...
it easily came back to her, how the sun and wind touched her young, carefree heart...and sweet moments of spring bloomed, and throbbed upon her...and those precious moments had taken life and space...
and she seemed to have soared in a balloon....lost...
confused...floating above and below....in endless lonely hours...
The lined mirror on the wall gives an image of two...she turns to the right, to see her side view,
towards the left, she sees the same...knows there's no one to blame.
with hands on waist, she stares at the swelling...she puts her hands underneath, then her two hands connect, like a cradle...as if to lighten the weight, the heavy feeling...
In her mind dwells tons of worries, fears...growing uncertainties on upcoming responsibilities...thinking of lost summer days...regretting...asking herself unfinished questions:
"what? when? after summer? until when? what if ? will he? will we?
there goes a light kick...her anxiety triggers a stir...
If only she could turn back the hands of time...bring about a long series of counter-clockwise spins and whirls... fight the waves back, right the
wrong decisions made, without hurting....but, she is not SUPERMAN, she has no powers, just prudent choices, soaring high, inside her confused mind, dictated by a strong force deep inside.. '
Like the lined mirror, she is divided in two...she knows the answers to her questions, yet, she rebels, disputing the truth that lies before her...still in denial...a part of her refuses to accept...
"Should i consider, or forget that one choice left?" she sighs, then cradles her rounded tummy, gives it a few gentle pats...the way one comforts and reassures a confused soul...
Suddenly, some movements again, from within...a reaction to the warm touch...
Tomorrow, when the sun comes out, she would walk and explore the promise of new beginnings every sunrise brings...she gets bigger...more sluggish now...not so eager to face each new day...
slowly emerging above her fears...
Her birthday nears, but
before it comes, her tummy would be small again...
and then, she won't be on her own
and then, things would never be the same again...
Sally
Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
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