life, love, nature, prose, random, sadness, Uncategorized

Eternal Sorrow

As I drew nearer the massive rock formation, I hear something. A strange whisper, none so quite haunting I’ve ever heard before.

I set the wooden oar at the side of the raft. Then I closed my eyes, and in a brief moment deciphered the words.

“My child…”

Although her voice was pure and soft, it resonated sadness within the walls of the temple. And all that was loud – the roars of the rapids and the rustles of the leaves — they faltered.

And I trembled.

“My child…”, she spoke once again, but now in a melancholic motherly tone.

“Why are men slaughtering my children?”

I opened my eyes, and saw dripping water from the cracks down the tips of the stalactites. They fell like tears upon my face.

Then I realized who she was.

Mother Earth.


 

Suddenly, she let out a strong wind that forced the rafter towards the violent rapids. They caught me before I could escape.

And all I could do was pray I won’t be dead by the end of day.

My lungs burned. I was desperate for air, and the rapids were too strong to overcome

I was about to give up.

With the little life I had left, I slowly opened my eyes, and an image appeared from the blur.

I saw the face of Mother Earth.

She was beautiful, stunning, and smiling. But she was welling up in tears.

“My child, your tears are now mine. Live with sadness no longer. I’ve stripped, from your skin to the bones, everything that hurt – those that make you insecure, unloved. Those which you think make you happy, but in its truest form, are manifestations of evil crafted by men.”

With a moment’s hesitation, I asked. “But aren’t those who kill, the same men for once you’ve called your children?”

She responded with a mournful smile.

In a blink, she disappeared into thin air, and I found myself once again, staring at the stalactites where Her tears dripped.


 

Now, I understand why they say there’s beauty in sadness. Because whenever I see the sunset, I see our Mother – sorrowful for all eternity.

Sorrowful but always beautiful.

And in Her eyes is where I see the sadness of men reflected.

Oh, how could we betray our Mother who loves us so dearly?

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prose, tale, Uncategorized

Little Encounter

City Lights Part II

Photo by Nico Angelo Daroy

A continuation of my previous post,  City Lights

 

My legs sway from the warm wind, gently pushing the clouds upon which I was seated.

I am looking below at the stars once again, at the same spot where I witnessed their revolution against the Moon the other night.

I look up to examine the view. Just a huge space of nothingness, and still, the solitary Moon.

Nope. The war is not over.

“What is so fascinating about the lights below that makes you want to come here in the wee hours?” A voice emanated from behind.

A stranger approached and had come to sit beside me.  He looks — well –strange. Cape on the shoulders, golden crown, brown leather boots. He’s little, but old and wrinkled. I thought that the question was completely ridiculous, but I can see through his eyes that he was curious and sincere.

“Well, what makes them fascinating? They’re fascinating because they are the stars! Stars that had fallen to the Earth for a punishment they did not deserve!

“And they’re dressed in different colors! A lot of orange there, which seem to form the letter S. There’s crimson, and gold. Silver lining up along the boundaries of the Earth.”

I can feel the flush of red slowly rising to cover my entire face. Luckily, the dark was a friend enough to conceal such scandal.

“Can you not see the different shades of blue over there which seem to communicate in the way they glitter? And do you not know that all of them are in a battle against the Moon?”

He laughed.

“Those are not what you seem they are, child. Those are not stars, but masks that give the illusion of a star! Made by pretentious beasts of the Earth. Have you not realized you have been deceived?”

In an instant, he was gone.

And so was I, plunging down below towards the unknown.

 

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prose, Uncategorized

City Lights

moon and city lights

Photo taken and owned by Bobby Neptune

 

As I dove down through what seemed like a large keyhole inscribed by the thick night clouds, I saw below, orbs of light, like stars, illuminating the expanse of loneliness.

Then I thought; How lucky the Moon is to see and witness this view – glorious constellations each moment of his life.

But…why had all the stars fallen?

Somehow, I began to be doubtful of the Moon.

Was it not that the selfish Moon who rules the heavens deemed the stars unworthy, and banished them all to the Earth, in order that he may boast his power?

But look!

The revolution has begun!

The army of stars below are shining brighter than ever, like burning magnesium!

And I see that, very slowly, the Moon has begun to bleed out his monotonous light.

How long would it be til’ they oust their king and take back the heavens which was theirs?

Very soon, I hope so.

 

 

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Inspired by a plane ride 🙂

Photo borrowed from this site: http://www.bobbyneptune.com/places/

 

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poetry, prose, Uncategorized

Christmas Solo-bration

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Photograph taken and owned by Fran Veale (07/12/2007)

 

Footsteps and footprints all around town

Sounds of impatience, horns, and rumbles

Smiles passing by, lights shining down

Souls elated by gifts that tumble 

Except for one sitting on the corner

Foiling up his leftovers 

Six pm, but he unrolls his covers

Saying,

“Gon’ save this for later,

…for the 25th of December”

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poetry, prose, Uncategorized

If I Were Anything…

If I were a place
I wouldn’t be a park
‘Cause like the birds
Noticing nothing but the scattered seeds,
You have forgotten my flowers
My freshness, my scenery
You before had noticed

If I were ever anything…

I wouldn’t definitely be the flower
Who for only a short time has been companions with a bee
As soon as it gets what it wants
It dances off and hops to my fellow flowers
Then I suffocate on self-pity
And question my worth and beauty
…Or the seashore
Because you love me to your high
Savour my salinity
But leaves when the sunset comes
And often, I’m left
Uncertain of your return

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prose, story

Doctor’s Yoke

“Doctor heal me!”

She cries out with desperation.

Yet when he asks her,

“How are you feeling, my dear?”

Her lips are sealed.

.

A doctor helps.

But how

If she restricts her speech?

If she conceals her inner cries?

If she assumes things to fall to place?

.

Whether or not the doctor asks

As long as no words pour,

Powerless he remains.

The expertise doesn’t matter.

.

But a doctor is patient.

He understands.

and hopes.

.

And under his breath, he swore.

“I will wait.”

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