Infinity

When you mix your dreams

You get a glow of shadowing glory

Skimming in awe

A splurge of dancing imagination

When you mix your dreams with mine

You are transfigured in

The excitement of my thoughts

Incorporated with yours

Flying and dismissed in an illusion

Gliding in the black shadow with

Silver wings

Gaze deep into my eyes

And drown in absolute ecstasy

Dreaming is far from real

And nothing is real

In a world of illusion

We only see what we feel

Dreaming is pure mental energy 

Empowered by only you

Dream with me to infinity

So we can see the sun

Dip into the horizon

The Writing Process

I grew up with books. 

I’m grateful I did. My mum took me to school fairs and church bazaars, where, we would pick out second hand books for fifty cents or perhaps a dollar (for the hard covered ones) and if I were lucky I’d be blessed with a brand new book from a book store in town.

I started writing during my time in high school when I was 14 and I stopped when I turned 21, which were a few months after my mother’s passing. 

During English classes, after dinner, or on lazy Sundays, I would find a pen, open my scrap book and write to my heart’s content. I would then rip it out of the scrap book and clip it in a file which I had picked at a seven-eleven nearby in our neighbourhood.

It was a multi-colored file. The different sized pages and ripped paper with markings and untidy hand writing was a justification of mere inspiration from simple observations like, when the day began, a song I heard on the radio or a scene I would have sketched in my mind. I kept that file in my bag and took it to school and when I finished high school, I took that file when I flew overseas for the very first time. 

I brought the file back with me upon my return and this time with new stories and worthy of note moments during my overseas stay.And what I would write about, you might ask. Well, of many things - poetry, stories, of rubber bands, trees, caterpillars and death. I wrote whatever came into my mind. You see, words are very powerful and at that particular time in my life, I loved bringing those words to life.

By August 2001, I tucked it away in a cupboard among other odds and ends only after I realised I could not write anymore. I could not get myself to pick up the pen and even if I did I would stare at the page and it would stare back at me.

I moved on and my life moved on from that file.  My thoughts never mentioned it to me. Not until, seven years after, when I found it in a pile of text books and random reading material.

How odd?

Bizarre even. I swear I would have lost the file after all those years. I read through it, several times and smiled to myself whilst reading the words which I conjured into paragraphs and then into pages. I didn't realise how bitter, angry and distraught I had become at that point in time of my life.

After reading, the file went back into its place, away from the world. It was only until March 2010 and after when I picked up the file (yet again tucked away but this time I had intended to put it some where perceptible) and read the contents.This time, I decided that I would complete what I had started.

Not everyone is able to leave money, jewelry or land as an inheritance for their children. Everyone though, can leave the most precious commodity of all – memories in the form of words.

Gone

Sitting on daddy’s couch

Thoughts are raining, raining down on me

She picks up her bags

Says no goodbye

Picks up her car keys

Looks back with a sigh

He waits on the front seat

Smiling with ease

Read me a story

Just one more please

Door slams behind her

An engine starts

Left with ghosts

And faint remarks

Up in my room

A hug becomes a need

And they've left me alone

In a dark room to bleed

Journal Thoughts

As I look back on life I realize the things I once held on to so tightly were just “things” and the people I once put upon a pedestal…are just “people”.

We are all the same. We have all been ushered into this world, initially, with a purpose. From the moment we are born, lives change, choices are made that affect our existence as we know it.

Mistakes? I have made many...but I have lived wildly, loved deeply and laughed much. My past haunts, my future beckons and I am thankful to be blessed with a rich and fulfilling life that has led me to this end…not an end filled with sadness and remorse but one filled with forgiveness, renewal and hope for tomorrow.

Every human in this universe is bestowed with mental and physical energy the quantum of which however varies amongst them as per age, gender, race, and region etc.

I have that mental energy which has allowed me to be who I am today.

The Hymn

This is one of the most beautifully pieced words I have lived to experience at my grandmother’s and mother’s funeral. It is one of those songs which have a depth of emotions and sadness but at the same time distinct hope. It brings tears to my eyes every time I hear it.

History says that this is a 19th century Christian hymn by Sarah Flower Adams, based loosely on Genesis 28:11–19 the story of Jacob's dream.

Genesis 28:11–12 can be translated as follows:

“So he came to a certain place and stayed there all night, because the sun had set. And he took one of the stones of that place and put it at his head, and he lay down in that place to sleep. Then he dreamed, and behold, a ladder was set up on the earth, and its top reached to heaven; and there the angels of God were ascending and descending on it”

Nearer, my God, to Thee, nearer to Thee!

E'en though it be a cross that raiseth me;

Still all my song shall be nearer, my God, to Thee,

Nearer, my God, to Thee, nearer to Thee!

Though like the wanderer, the sun gone down,

Darkness be over me, my rest a stone;

Yet in my dreams I'd be nearer, my God, to Thee,

  

There let the way appear steps unto heav'n;

All that Thou sendest me in mercy giv'n;

Angels to beckon me nearer, my God, to Thee,

Then with my waking thoughts bright with Thy praise,

Out of my stony griefs Bethel I'll raise;

So by my woes to be nearer, my God, to Thee,

Or if on joyful wing, cleaving the sky,

Sun, moon, and stars forgot, upwards I fly,

Still all my song shall be, nearer, my God, to Thee,

A sixth verse was later added to the hymn by Ed­ward H. Bick­er­steth, Jr. as follows

There in my Father’s home, safe and at rest,

There in my Savior’s love, perfectly blest;

Age after age to be, nearer my God to Thee. 

Your New Beginning

What is the value of a new beginning?

To choose a path that is completely different from others

What is the purpose of a strong mind?

To withstand all the grave danger that pushes one to a corner?

What is the sense of gravity?

That makes you grounded and stand firm in what you believe in?

What is the reason for wars and bombs?

When the world will end anyway?

But I ask you

What is your sole purpose on this earth in this life?

To make a difference to others

Or

To change the way others think?

He

Came once in a dim autumn night

With the deep crimson of roses

Gently laid them by my feet

And half I smile and half I weep

Closing my thoughts with his

For me he stopped to look around

Then wrote my name onto the ground

I thanked him with a smile

Parting sadly with the last kiss

No grace was felt or any pain

We stood as stones in the fallen rain...