Untitled.

I’m Forgetful.

As I sip on hot chocolate studying social and abnormal psychology, I often wonder if any one can be considered normal. Am i normal for not being compassionate to the fellow on the street when I can just likely be there too? Am i normal for reading pages and pages, knowing numbers after numbers but not doing a thing to save those around me? Am I normal for being simply forgetful?

I forget your name, your interests, and your thoughts. You told me a funny story and I hope to remember, but I can’t even remember the opening lines of your story. I don’t remember your birthday, but somehow most of you remember mine. I don’t remember your favorite food, but you remember all our conversations. I don’t remember your love, but you remember with gratitude what I did for you.

I’m malleable to the behavior of today and I forget what it used to be. Perhaps that makes it easier to forgive and forget because I can’t even remember your wrongs. But then, I forget her. I don’t recall my memories when the fires raged and she breathed her last. All I recall is my grief…and my lasting regret.

I’m up at night wondering what it means to love. All the lessons you have taught, I’m forgetting. It’s as if the wheels are turning too fast. The accelerator is pressed too hard. The needle is nowhere near where safety lives. I’m leaving behind all the memories behind as if I’m moving and packing away all what is dear to me.

That’s why I keep letters. I keep a blog. I keep everything even if it means my room’s a mess. I’m afraid of forgetting. I’m afraid of losing everything that means so dear to me. I’m afraid of letting go of the past lest I forget the lessons that came from it. I recall waiting outside my old home, vowing that I’ll remember every single room. I vowed that I will get that Toyota Previa and the home on Leeward Drive. I’ll return, I vowed.

And here now, I awaken from this slumber - lost in fragments of memories that I desperately try to grasp. I’ve forgotten why I began to write, but my hands know. There’s a plea inside coming from within - a deep cry that resounds through the caverns of the heart.

I hear His echoes. He breathes life into me again. Now I know my treasures are not of this world. I shall meet them; I shall meet her soon. Memories are scars remaining in the heart. I need not grasp what has past. I must grasp what is coming, instead.

I’m coming soon.

Everyone has a story to share.
And if they came here with a tale.
Who I am to say that I understand?
Because I have trouble with writing my own.

But I wish to read the stories of all the people in the world.
Starting from their birth to their trials to who they are today.
I want to know what their pain is and how they came to be.
Maybe in them, in those I give love the least, is where God hid His blessings.

Because, certainly, when I came to this world, I knew not those I would come to love last week, last month, or the last twenty two years. Yet, here I am from meeting the mechanic David who remembered me from two months ago to meeting the lady at Belmont Park who remembered me from a couple of weeks ago. I am in their stories now and they in mine.

Sleepless

I can’t sleep at night.
I wonder why.
Stuck in eternal time.
Returning back.

What past?
Just love remains
Regret out the door
But it returns right back

Thoughts float around
Interrupts.
Echoes disrupt.
All of it is coming back.

Back and back
Again and again
No sleep again
No more backing.

Embraced by love.
Comforted by whispers
Love all along
Been backing me.

Now my eyes close
Heaven’s close
Beckoning to come
Sleepers waiting
For kingdom come.

An End to A Chapter

The end came after hours of hearings. The end came on the steps in front of the Triton statue. The end came when the morning light began to rise.

When stepping forth, there remained a feeling that in the end, the chapter would somberly end. There becomes a sense of reflection of why this happened, of how it happened, and of what exactly happened. And in those moments alone does the pain amplify even more. All the frustrations and exhaustion come rushing in. The dam that held is no more…the rapids of time were too strong. 

The movement that was proclaimed and advocated came to a sudden end when the united became dispersed again. I cannot help but feel that I have taken the school ten steps backwards. Instead of inspiring, I fear that I have broken and delayed initiatives. I came to bring students from all walks of life and under my leadership, I have not accomplished what I promised them I would do. Instead, I led them to an end without the words to begin.

It is a bittersweet thinking to start all over again. For simply, I did not fail myself, but I have failed far more and wronged greater that I have ever done. It weighs heavily upon my heart that I have not led my people to the light.

Now, where to?
Off to a new horizon,
Leaving behind artifacts
For the ones coming.

First Coffee

I look up to see a mirror with golden frames
The ceiling lights reflect to bring warm, vibrant light
Its light touches the cinnamon roll that she cut
And the cup of latte that her lips have touched

With her, I enjoyed my first cup of coffee
If latte can be said to be coffee,
The taste was a little strange,
But it was something she and I shared
As we sat side by side in this coffeehouse
While she studied physiology,
I wrote letters for support.

Faintly in the distance, I hear the coffee machine
And a mumbling of voices at the front
Here in the back, it’s a different space
Where a plate of pastry and cup of latte
Was all that separated me from her

I hear her pen writing an endless stream of notes
The small voice of her pen is met with the typing of my hand
Her hand is close, but I should not dare
We’re lost together in a world
But lost even more in our own worlds

My stream of thought is interrupted
As she turns the page to write again,
I shy a look at her, just a quick glance
And I know from looking at her,
It’s a beautiful day on 5th St,

Coffee Shop

You’re in front of me,
Pouring over your pharmacy notes
And highlighting words I would never know
You fit so well with the pleasant coffee aroma,
Overcoming my senses and making my heart leap
But when I reach, your hand slips away
I can but only yearn
As I hide behind this screen
Waiting for your eyes to meet my own
I make conversation with you
But you just smile to me
Before books and notes whisk you away
But when you stretch, you look at me
And happiness gleams in both of our eyes
I know not what strikes me
But you became someone I fancy
Here in this coffee shop,
I am smitten by your beauty
Though I know not what to do,
My heart is simply content
Being here at the same table as you 

Hopeless Hope

Do I hold onto a hope that is hopeless?
Then so be it. I shall be an undignified fool,
Because He has made my life meaningful
And gives me strength.

For death is no longer fearful
And life no longer burdensome,
In Him, I utter so weakly
Repeating the same words
Then, I am rendered speechless
And the treasury of definitions
Bear but a little of His glory

Who am I to You?
I hold onto Your promises,
For my hopeless hope
Is my greatest joy 

Silent Wandering

Thou hast lavished me with Thy blessings;
Should I repay with sadness to Thee?
What have I done, oh Lord but take?
What have I given for it is so small
Even my heart is withered

How often have I come alone
To the empty sanctuary
To pray alone
To cry out to you
To sing praises to you
All in the company of one!

How then do I come so often,
So often, I am alone
No words can convey
And speech I refuse
I seek rescue
But my lips refuse to part

How I wish to sleep now,
How I wish to come to You now,
All that I do, all the regrets I have,
All these failures to You…
Truthfully I’m afraid.

Will You be with me
And return me to this world?
I haven’t borne the cross
And daily I have lagged
But shall You be near?
I run so often; I fear You will let go one day.

I…I just need Thee and Thy grace
The past haunts me
And the present gives despair.
But in You, I am safe. 

Breathing a Moment

I take a moment to breathe
And found myself alone in a cafe
I listen to babies crying,
People walking
But I never felt so much more alone
I see a woman reading with her red Starbucks cup in hand
She’s engrossed in her new book.
I see a family on my right as they sit silently on their own phones
Sipping on their own frappuccino
Behind me, a student is just walking around in his backpack
I can see him from the reflection of this screen
Now, I’m just breathing for a moment
The rush of the day ends
And I’m anticipating something
But I know not what.

I gave myself a moment to breathe
And I found myself completely alone

But I will breathe a little more
And wait for the Spirit once more.
I shall walk in Your courts once more
So that my every breath is spent
In the temple of Your glory. 

Sundering

The masquerade ball begins
Within me, each of me entering the heart
A disguise for governance, a smiling mask for serving,
An excited look; a thoughtful face
And I the host attend to each.

I wonder how God would think
When He sees the many in me
In the temple He has consecrated
For the Son to make rooms
Washing walls abandoned
To redeem and sanctify
Into a home that the Lord may see fit
To advance His kingdom

The federal head of my own heart
Like that of Adam’s Eden,
The serpents advance without resistance
Like the armies heading to Berlin in ‘45,
Resistance falls apart at the sight
Why then does winter come to
What God has made spring?

How the room filled with warmth before…
And how the Lord had brokered peace
That the hallways should be free to pass

Where then is this place in the heart
For the masquerade ball has begun
The many has entered the central
And the facade of pride among the many
Seeks my company
Away from the wife of humbleness
Awaiting me in my marriage bed

Shall this ball mislead me
That I shall lust of mystery
And be ambitious to a fault?
There are greater whispers
From those who I do not know
For I alone am stripped of disguise
While all else guard their hearts

The atmosphere begins to suffocate me;
How the mystery had captivated me before
Breaking me into a spell
Violently sundering me from that of my first love
The love that remained when I was first conceived
And the grace the love overflowed in me

No, no, I want no more of this,
Oh Lord, sunder me from this heart
I want no more of pretense
I want no more to be lost.

For you sent a son to write a message
To do my best and to continue on.

Oh Lord, violently this ballroom shook
When I realized You were here
Among the crowd, You came unmasked
You came to seek me
To wake me from this dream
From this spell, you sundered me

So I cry,
Unleash Your grace upon this ball
And gently, oh gently, take away our masks
Let us bask in Your glory again
And be everlastingly heartened by the rumors of Your coming.
I’m sick of hiding away. 

Had a Choice

Between family and work,
I chose work.

And in me, I saw it as the right choice,
But my heart ached and agonized
To the point where the burden became unbearable
And outwardly I wept.

It’s as if I crossed the line
Starting to become someone
I never ever wanted to be… 

Make Me A Child Again

Oh, hold me close
Relieve me and make it true
Let me weep alone with You
My heart is weak
And I…I am so tired
Where is the resting place
Where is this place You promised?

Take me home, take me away
There is not much to give away
I can’t give anymore
I have no water to give
This well is dry!
I covet those with greater water to give
There Your people are served!
There Your people are given rest!

But I cannot! I have nothing left to give…
Now I am a beggar, a beggar of mercy
I desire Thy grace and drink of it
For long has it been since I last drank this taste of grace
My soul has taken sack clothes
And wails a long cry for there is no more
This city of mine has run dry
And its people shall die!
Oh Lord, save this city of mine
Save this heart of mine
Strike the well and fill it again

Make me a child again
That I may come to You
And rest my burned soul. 

Shh…

The silence of the night strums the strings
To crescendo each thought inside
The vast space becomes filled
And the quietness hums a small tune
There a memory awakes
Sleepwalking inside
Exciting the nerves
And coloring the eyes
A vision appears
As sleep covers my soul
And whispers to me
Words I can never conceive
In a language I cannot speak
For my whole being
Is left groping in the dark
By the empty words slumber uttered
Knowing no response to send. 

To teach

Is to be there in the storm
To not walk away to a refuge where none knows
It is a storm that is to be suffered together
But how should it be,
That the passing of the storm
Took down the homes that was built?
How is it that I should still have a safe home
When those I love and teach
Should come to a home broken?

How should I teach?
For I am left silent
I am left at a loss
The pain strikes me
To see the consequences arise
From actions done so long ago
That I have left a home
With no way to fend
No real models to grow with
And to have that horrible realization
That I too was part of the storm.

I who confessed love
I who believed in teaching
May have been part of the cause
To the broken home I see

How can I teach…
When I do not know
The pain they feel? 

Til Death Do Us Part

 “A happy marriage is the union of two good forgivers.”

-Ruth Bell Graham

Unconditionally.
As he who came walked in the garden
To be joined with her
And to breathe together in unison
As they walk with steps in tune
The applause that deafens the sanctuary
As the community affirms the sanctity of this matrimony
There the bride and groom walks out the door
Into the bright son
To be under the Son
In grace and truth
As the Son makes their path
Through the garden that eluded Adam and Eve
To be there in that place
Dancing under the spotlight
Smiling with their eyes
And uttering with their lips
The indescribable bliss
That should overcome
Even sin’s temptations
And the mishaps of life
When two become one,
Then the bells would ring
Until heaven comes
They are together
Til death part their ways
Their friendship shall know no end.