Are you surprised, dear friend?
To find me standing still,
When all but the last leaf has fallen,
To be blown away over yonder hill.
He should be gone by now, you think,
Washed away by the drying rain,
Into rivulets of virgin streams,
Soaked dry amidst the rolling plain.
Ah! But don't envy me, my kindred friend,
As I flirt with the truant winter squall,
Allow a withering birch another arrogant ring,
Witness to times stolen from a bygone fall.
From orient lands where you now dwell,
Rises the sun which on me once shone,
'Tis now only a relentless foe,
Spring madness I must bear alone.
O friend of my youthful past,
Soon must be the dictates of age obeyed,
'N though my ashes be lost in summer dust,
Memories, brimming with nigh magical shade.
Sunday, June 11, 2006
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
Being One
Life runs such a weird course. It is steady and sparkling one moment, lost among hazy mists of the past in the next and reaching out to a honest future in the one after that. As a series of what-ifs and why-nots fight for space in the confines of one's warped mind, life seems to go on, popping like an unending sheet of bubble wrap.
It is so simple to feel sad for oneself. Suddenly, one bumps into someone in the long queue at the bank counter, who informs one that one's very first serious crush is getting married. It's at times like these that life seems so... not meant for one. Like one is here quite by accident, and that one's dreams are constantly trespassing on reality - to-be-shot-down-at-sight. Then one sees someone else living a life one dreams of, and one sinks deeper into quicksand.
It is a little bit harder to feel happy for someone else. Like for first-serious-crush. One feels happy for her when one remembers that she was a nice person to have known, and that she should get all the happiness she can get. It was not long ago that someone asked one about being over one's obsession. One thinks getting over is more of thinking about obsession in a different way - like accepting another version of reality. It is hard, and sometimes near impossible to pull off but mostly one is calm outside, and rarely inside when obsession is concerned. More confused actually. But that stems from one's insecurity of being left with nothing to obsess about, more than anything else.
It is the hardest to feel happy for oneself. To keep remembering that one is living a life forged by one's choices, doing something one chose to do. To constantly remind oneself that being able to live one's choice is and always will be a BIG luxury. One sees other people being happy about other things, like money and love. And one forgets the things one has to be happy about. One broods over why one's choice, though one's own, is devoid of money and love (among other things). One sees the promise of a bright future, and one is scared to death at the prospect of treading that future alone. One does not remember all the work one did to get that future, and that one's dreams are just beginning to melt into reality.
One is afraid. One has no one to talk to, endlessly and about everything. One has no one to whom one can speak to, without first thinking what one is going to say. One keeps searching. One does not know for what. One is sure it will happen one day. One does not know when. One's faith is being tested. One's faith tends to waiver, and to doubt One. One thinks of dying, and of not being there one day. One finds comfort in being mortal. One suddenly finds one is short of time. One hurries. One cannot keep this up much longer.
One is after all, only one.
It is so simple to feel sad for oneself. Suddenly, one bumps into someone in the long queue at the bank counter, who informs one that one's very first serious crush is getting married. It's at times like these that life seems so... not meant for one. Like one is here quite by accident, and that one's dreams are constantly trespassing on reality - to-be-shot-down-at-sight. Then one sees someone else living a life one dreams of, and one sinks deeper into quicksand.
It is a little bit harder to feel happy for someone else. Like for first-serious-crush. One feels happy for her when one remembers that she was a nice person to have known, and that she should get all the happiness she can get. It was not long ago that someone asked one about being over one's obsession. One thinks getting over is more of thinking about obsession in a different way - like accepting another version of reality. It is hard, and sometimes near impossible to pull off but mostly one is calm outside, and rarely inside when obsession is concerned. More confused actually. But that stems from one's insecurity of being left with nothing to obsess about, more than anything else.
It is the hardest to feel happy for oneself. To keep remembering that one is living a life forged by one's choices, doing something one chose to do. To constantly remind oneself that being able to live one's choice is and always will be a BIG luxury. One sees other people being happy about other things, like money and love. And one forgets the things one has to be happy about. One broods over why one's choice, though one's own, is devoid of money and love (among other things). One sees the promise of a bright future, and one is scared to death at the prospect of treading that future alone. One does not remember all the work one did to get that future, and that one's dreams are just beginning to melt into reality.
One is afraid. One has no one to talk to, endlessly and about everything. One has no one to whom one can speak to, without first thinking what one is going to say. One keeps searching. One does not know for what. One is sure it will happen one day. One does not know when. One's faith is being tested. One's faith tends to waiver, and to doubt One. One thinks of dying, and of not being there one day. One finds comfort in being mortal. One suddenly finds one is short of time. One hurries. One cannot keep this up much longer.
One is after all, only one.
Monday, June 05, 2006
If it ends, before...
Beads of anxious sweat
washed with chaotic rain
Make me want to reach out
for you again
Now.
It might be that tomorrow
I'll see your smile
But what if the sun doesn't
Ever shine on my lonely isle
A week might be the blessed time
When you would touch my heart
But what if by then I have
Already played out my mortal part
Perhaps in a few months
Life would lead me to you
But what if the months left
Are lesser than those few
Years on years, I can wait
If it is you who mark their end
But what if by the end of time
There is no more time left to spend
If in another life it is to be
I'll survive this one, alone, insane
But what if after I give it up
I forget how to live again
Now.
Drops of frightened tears
mixed with the soothing rain
Make me want to reach out
and find me again
washed with chaotic rain
Make me want to reach out
for you again
Now.
It might be that tomorrow
I'll see your smile
But what if the sun doesn't
Ever shine on my lonely isle
A week might be the blessed time
When you would touch my heart
But what if by then I have
Already played out my mortal part
Perhaps in a few months
Life would lead me to you
But what if the months left
Are lesser than those few
Years on years, I can wait
If it is you who mark their end
But what if by the end of time
There is no more time left to spend
If in another life it is to be
I'll survive this one, alone, insane
But what if after I give it up
I forget how to live again
Now.
Drops of frightened tears
mixed with the soothing rain
Make me want to reach out
and find me again
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