Under a tree –
A tree that’s been cut down…
I should have known.
The water pours down gently
Like a waterfall trickling down
It’s weird how cleansing it feels
Water washes away, washes clean.
Ever feel like moving away
Starting fresh somewhere new?
Somewhere far away perhaps
The salty water gushes like from a spring.
Black smears –
Visible gentle lines
But they are so ugly – wipe them away.
Be strong –
Step forward bravely
And then crumble at the next step
Overpowering weakness.
Why? Who is it really?
Why bother? Is it real?
Curled up. Just curled up.
Where is the energy pulled from?
It cannot be from within
But each person’s faith is unique
How can we judge and determine what is right and wrong.
That is, but to us.
The constant splitting and dividing.
Divisions. Dominations. Segregation.
Integrity.
How does He do it?
Always so strong,
Always so faithful,
Always the same.
The whisper is gentle and comforting
It’s silent but comforting; beckoning.
Yet there is so much activity –
So much going on.
Paint me a picture.
Thousands of faces
But all strangers
Staring...staring back hardly.
Fixedly. Unmoving. Unwavering.
Just a hug – please – just a hug.
Just to be held in safe arms
and loved – really loved.
Maybe it’s there –
As bright as the sun
But the shadow –
That’s what’s in front of me.
Misunderstood, misunderstand.
But it’s not the first time
And the world still goes around
Do we see the same picture?
Or just what we paint?
Are you in my picture?
Or am i in yours?
Or maybe not at all.
So many smiling faces
Just staring back at me.
Just staring.
The water is hot
Like the tropics.
And i’m still me.
But i’ll change –
Someday, somehow...
For the better.
Maybe in that new place.
“You are beautiful
And He has great plans for you.”
Like the ship...
Just like the ship:
“Here am I, send me.”
Tape ke mana?
Dan untuk apa?
Bagaimana? Mengapa?
Saya kurang fasih
Saya tak faham
Saya...
And it resonates:
“Here am I, send me.”
Overwhelming.
Overpowering.
Such strength.
The water pours on down.
Wash away; wash away clean
Fresh. New.
Fresh start. New place.
i am ok now.
Strong –
So strong!
But for who?
More importantly why?
The sunlight bounces off the mirror.
Of course.
That’s what it has been all along.
But with many false presumptions and assumptions.
Same old, same old.
But the water feels good.
Destructive sometimes, but good.
It hacks away –
Showing the hidden.
But what comes next?
Who’s ready?
It’s painful, it’s hard.
“So run away!”
But where to and what to?
Just the same as before.
Never settled, never laid to rest.
Always lifeless, yet awake.
Just following and staring.
Hearts are too fragile –
So easily broken and so hard to mend
Then don’t touch them
But the need pulls. Mine, theirs.
Destruction?
A lone island with water all around.
Water, crashing, washing, hacking
Just the island –
Left all alone.
It’s better that way, perhaps...
Safer.
Another candle is lit –
And then blown out.
Forgotten.
In the shadow.
Pretending to be?
So who was the candle for?
Really?
It’s gone now.
Gone – like the water took it.
And exclamation mark, a star.
A smile.
At last!
But for how long?
It’s like shopping for a band aid.
Like raindrops on roses.
But what of yesterday?
A crash!
Then smiles, hugs, warmth
Love – just friends
So many friends; and new friends.
Faces staring and smiling.
The eyes…like the eyes.
But that was Italy.
My love.
So what font should i use?
i guess it depends on what paint.
Clearly, it doesn’t matter.
The brown, gloomy, still water
Trapped. Then green.
So many uses for it though.
Hard water…soft water...
Believe it!
Letter after letter,
Word after word,
Page after page,
Where does it end?
Right at the beginning.
Right where it started.
A deep breath
Some water
Some black smudges
A lot of water
Faces, Oh! So many faces
Warm – like Malaysia
Tapi bukan mukanya.
The water warms.
A band aid.
A smile.
Through the door.
But if it ends where it beings,
Then where is the change?
Inside. In between.
The beginning is never the same again.
The journey changes it:
No replication possible.
Good. Conflict, then change.
Somewhere new. Italy perhaps.
Bhutan? South Africa? Peru?
Maybe just Maltese soil.
Different indeed.
Everywhere and nowhere.
Like the mist above the water.
A shiver.
Two minutes.
And the heat;
But not from the water
From love.
Hidden, unexpected love.
One minute.
Is that sort of love real?
Is it possible?
But surely it must be
And not for some other reason.
It’s here and warm.
Only His love is pure.
But love like He does.
Always, forever, without exception.
Everyone, all the time.
Impossible?
But keep trying.
There is space for so much love.
Oh, so much!
Under a tree –
A tree that been cut down
I should have known.
It’s just being pruned.
Written in a moment
when I thought I was in distress
-daenielle
