Take the Train of Life


Life is designed in a certain way to serve her purpose as a descended being. Sometimes, like this one life in particular, it is designed so that she would struggle, be overwhelmed in worldly matters, then run away from all of the fruits of her deeds to reach for something else…

Something different. Regardless of how lucid or vague her new dream is, she wants to drop every thing and pursue this new spark of life. Is this the right thing to do? Does it fit the standard of the present moral values?

Life is designed to be experienced, one choice at a time, for otherwise how would any moment, any event, enrich her soul? And at the completion of the masterpiece, she surrenders to the result. Surrender because the universe takes action and she knows it is best to step back and let it unfold. If she has her dream realized is what has been pre-destined.

Is that tall man in dark suit and hat her new spark of life? Her reason to leave all of her past stories behind? Is he her dream come true?

What matters is that she has followed her heart, letting the train of life take her closer home. One heartbeat at a time. One life at a time.

(Prisma Vision Tarot: nine of wands, seven of chalices, & wheel of fortune)

lonely and misunderstood

imageyou are a divine waterfall
not only do you heal
you heal passionately

you don’t look like all those cloaks
that societies have long woven to forcefully conceal you in
when you finally undress yourself and let them all know
they start throwing stones at you

love is you are love is so lonely
and misunderstood
silence will explain you
but they’re all too busy advocating you
telling, i mean, yelling about
their own versions of you

people weave all colors of cloaks and call them you
tear, burn, bully, murder other people’s designs simply cos they’re not you
beauty and happiness are relative but they ignore the main ingredient.

grains of sands are invisible
they like to worship the biggest and the greatest
it’s noisy here you’re surrounded by blind people that leave you lonely and misunderstood

do they know what love is
do they know who god is

After Fifteen Minutes


echo (no. 25) by jackson pollock

fifteen minutes and the alarm in me sets off
words start dancing voices spinning like a washing machine dubbed in gibberish irish
people are executing a strange choreography like you just arrive on mars and think why those aliens move the unalien ways

look at the screen
i am lost
all i know it’s there for those polite eyes to see and nod and ask and agree anyway

it’s hardwork, people
people move in the rhythm
move faster, people
we need to reach much higher

money money money
they make us owe
we work to pay
but 45 out of 60
i just want to write, create, and party
munch, munch my caramel popcorn while stamping my botas
to the alegrias, really.

i wish to listen

Longing_People_O_4ecb04f60d4a0I may not pluck flowers for you
or burn you sticks of scents
I may not come up with beautiful chants
to summon you, persuade you, impress you
But, I do love you

Sometimes the world carries me away
But, I do long to be united with you

And I wish to see the colors of your divine soul
I wish to listen to your healing songs
while feeling your wings around me

Be the Dream I Wish to Come True


A life brimming with love is what I wish for. At the same time, it is what I need to create. After all, with the help of all beings who vibrate hues of love, I must be the dream that I wish to come true.

It is a hard task. Sometimes, when this heart gets tired, I feel that my arms are not stretched enough to grab some help. Sometimes, people put me to test with their unloving behaviors. They make me want to give up. They make me feel extra weight on my shoulders. And in loneliness, I hurt my back and my chest trying to keep on loving while feeling out of love.

But, the only way is love. And when the sky is not so dark anymore, I will be able to see how strong and loving I am essentially. And the fact is, I am not the only survivor. I will meet you on this spot again, fellow love worshippers. Had I given up, I wouldn’t be holding your hand or listening to your heartbeat like now.

when the student is ready

imageSome people open their eyes, but they walk like those eyes are closed. Some others really open their eyes, and decide to leave the crowds because they see that they have different kind of fur that coats different color of skin. Maybe one of those people is you. Or me. We carry swords with which we cut new roads open, though often misunderstood and misperceived as a threat to those who prefer roads more travelled.

You and I with the consciousness of our true colors and swords of truth in our hands tend to create shocking waves to our societies as well as to our own lives. But, do not misunderstand the quake as a mere misfortune. In life, it is called Change. Progress. The inevitable way to reach the ultimate state of self that we have all been yearning to achieve. And the more you desire, the more your hands are itching to grasp it, the more compelled is the whole universe to deliver it to you.

And when the time is right, the teacher will appear to whisper to us words of consolation, cool breeze of air that will calm us down, embracing wings of light that tell us we are home.