Wednesday, March 17, 2021

Your Song

If I could
Would I take the road
Into my own self
Meet me again
In the face-to-face mirror
The person I am today?
Would I be strong enough
To face this boring life
Write new stories
In this old book?
Would I be brave
Embrace
Not change
This old self
When I see him coming?
No guilt
No regrets
No fear
At last finding hope
In this collective mentality
Normality
Simplicity
Life of mine?
If I could
Would I?


 

Saturday, February 27, 2021

Heliacal Rising

Have you noticed
The most beautiful views
Can only be seen
After walking through
Longest
Darkest
Roughest paths?
Tell me your pain,
Why do you bleed?
Is it in vain?
Can you listen past the words
Clinging your soul to the music?
Come along with me
On the road less taken
A place where
No one is forsaken
There you spread your wings
And fly in an endless dream,
Senseless us, one.

 



Thursday, February 25, 2021

Corpses

When the music stopped
Her old body dropped
“I ain’t missing the days”,
She said, “no, no more”

Look up, look forward
The world dragged her down
“I ain’t looking back”,
She said, “no, no more”

Snow-covered mountains
Corpses hiding underneath
“I ain’t running from the sun”,
She said, “no, no more”

Bring her the Book
Hold her hand and read it out loud
“I ain’t closing my eyes”,
She said, “no, no more”.




Monday, January 11, 2021

Wild River

“The moment night becomes day
Time stops
I see you smiling back at me
In an instant
The years apart are as a wild river
Taking away memories of me
Without you
The present tells me stories
I don’t wanna hear
The past sings
Your name in my ears.”

Wednesday, April 10, 2019

Monsoon of the heart

Out of the blue this intense sadness overcomes you. It fills your heart with emptiness. It's a paradox, really, something that fills something else with nothing.

You miss her.

You are not sure how to describe so many different new feelings. You miss what you didn't have, miss what you dreamed of having. It's like knowing you saw the sun rise for the very last time, but you weren't aware of it and didn't pay too much attention. You took it for granted. Now that's gone, and gone for good, you just stand there everyday still waiting for something that won't happen, wishing, praying to God that He would give you another chance.

You cry but you don't even know exactly why. Are those tears of regret? Do you feel guilty? Are you crying for yourself? You are a pitiful thing. Still, your lungs are filled of too much air that it makes it impossible to breath properly. How can you understand that? The tears that you try to hide now come down followed by a sound of pain from your lips. It's the monsoon of your heart. Will anything flourish from that?

I miss her.

Thursday, April 4, 2019

The Goodbye That I Will Never Say

The last time I heard her voice was January 10th, 2019. She had sent me an audio message, which was not unusual at all: that was the way we had been communicating for the past 3-4 years, since she got her first smartphone and installed an app that allowed us to keep in touch for free.

She apologized for not getting in touch at all that day. She had been looking after her great-grandson for the past week in the afternoons, and those were busy and delightful days. She enjoyed the company of the little boy, he made her feel younger and carefree. Those were good days.

Her last text message came later that same day, asking if I was already home from work. I didn't answer it at the time, I was busy in the kitchen. I replied a couple of hours later, but I will never know if she read it.

I arrived at my country of birth a few days before the last time I saw her. Catch a flight, stay up all night, catch another flight. Straight to the hospital. And there she was - or was she? I thought with myself, I should be fainting or screaming now, but no, I was surprisingly calm, not shocked by all the machines and tubes and wires. Perhaps I was numb? I leaned over her, kissed her face, said I was there because I wasn't getting any replies to my many messages. I am sure she didn't find it funny, neither did I, it was just something a friend told me to say.

I wanted to hug her, but it was impossible. So I kissed and kissed her face and her forehead over and over again, held her hand, touched her feet, straightened up the linen covering her imoveable body. I had hoped so much, I had prayed so much, had dreamed with the moment I'd see her and we'd hug and laugh, and tell stories, and cry a little, or a lot. She would take me to all the new places and stores in the city, the place where she used to have lunch, the coffee shop where everyday she'd have a "decaf espresso with a little milk". I would want to enjoy her company and perhaps talk about the many things that we had been talking over audios for the past few years, things that were difficult to talk about but made us feel real to each other.

Those were bittersweet days, being with family that I had missed so much, and at the same time saying goodbye a little everyday. The paradox of it all, I kept thinking, were nights where I slept through, not endlessly staring at the darkness echoing in my brain. No. Some strange and beautiful calmess filled my being, some strange peace. "And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus". I prayed for that peace. But I prayed for so much more. And I waited.

The dawn came, and I heard my name. Stared at my sister, and I knew: it was time. "Please let it hurt, please let it hurt", I said. And my little sister hugged me tight, because I was the weaker of the two of us.

Something didn't die inside of me that day. No. Instead, something dried up, such a strange feeling. Like the grass after several hot summer days, waiting for the rain that refuses to come. The conversations that never happened, the laughs that we never shared, the hug that I never got from the woman that carried me for a lifetime, her lifetime. I was - I AM! - her child.

And I will never say goodbye.

Friday, March 22, 2019

Do not loose it, me.

"Here, my son, take my hand. No, no, it's not for you to find your way or to feel safe. It's for me. I find my way in holding your hand. Did you know that? My heart beats three different, yet the same, beats. One of them is for you. You, not only who you were in my arms 36 years ago, but who you are today. Do you see it? Do you see the time that passed and took us on its wings and now it is been so long ago and we sometimes feel like strangers? But how can that be possible, since you hold my heart in your hands - or part of it? You did not know that, did you. Yea, you didn't. But now listen to your aging mother. One day you will know that we were more alike than different. You will understand that differences do not matter as much as you, today, think they do. There will be a place that you will want to go back to and you won't find it, one day. And it's going to hurt and your body will feel the real pain. Listen to your mother. You think you know what pain is? Maybe. But this pain you are yet to know, this pain of losing that heart that you did not know you held for so long, this one is yet to come. That is why I am telling you, today, about what you hold in your hands without knowing. Do not loose it, me. Do not let it, me, go. Hold it, me, in your heart and mind. Because time is flying with fast and long wings."