The Quiet Path Behind Evening Oak

How long I have stood here, all the past seems has not changed at all into present. The same scarlet sky, the similar humid thin air, and this warm breeze out of nowhere. This floating feeling, this lightened breath, and this softened ground. How long I have stood here.

I have no story, I have no sonnet, and I have no poetry. This path is just a simple void between my days and nights, between my awareness and my ignorance. And by its’ nature, it has become a quiet path.

Continue reading →

Bend of Morning Winds

I remember clearly, the void, the smell of morning grass and land in the thick of morning mist. It was not unusual morning, neither a special one, it just a common early morning, right before the sun were about to raise gently. And I believe everyone must have ever seen this kind of morning once in a life time, at least.

Continue reading →

The Sparkling Rain within Your Eyes

I have met rain this afternoon, suddenly they fall freely when my steps still far enough from that silhouette I call home. Its been awhile since the last time I walked under the afternoon rain. When nothing urge to be done which need me to keep myself dry – I prefer to have a walk home, even under the rain.

Well, I used to life in the middle of rice fields, rain often chough me when I far from home – no building, no tree, no shelters, it just rice fields everywhere. So, I just let myself enjoyed walking home under the rain.

Continue reading →

Secret

Oh, do you have a secret – that was a question addressed to me long time ago. I already forget who was asked me, but the question was direct and clear. And I knew its a serious question people might ask you.

I do have secrets, not only a secret – I think I did answer the question like that.

Even I spoke like that, actually, even me myself doesn’t really know what was my secrets, maybe it truly hidden deep inside, even the owner can’t peek it freely.

I can never judge, whether having a secret is something good and bad. Its beyond the white and black sides. The heart’s content is something that we should call as privacy – the space even God only can enter with permission of the owner.

And we push other to agree “there is must be no secret between us” – I think we already killed to capability of respecting someone’s right of privacy, it killed the very love its self.

Love means the root of universal understanding, when one doesn’t feel to keep any secret, one wouldn’t – so why bothering it. Don’t hurt someone to tell something that hurt one’s heart, do not push your believe to other, it may not fix well.

Colourless Nightmare

When it used to come in the past, I still can remember clearly that it would made me cry unintentionally. It still as clear as the day it was happened. I should know, the day when she took my heart and stabbed it right in front of my eyes – this life would be never the same again.

I know then, when I opened this very eyes, I am already heartless. I know the sense of love, but I no longer can feel it. I know the sense of pain and the fear of nightmare, but merely can’t touch it. I lost the me who were able to fall in love, who were able to touch the pain of being hurt, who were able to grasp the beauty of morning breeze.

When I got a colourless nightmare, I know I lost the capability of being human completely, just when I became heartlessly.

If people can not see the bright of the sunlight, we call them blinds, but when the me now even can not feel the very sense itself, I think I do understand the feeling of leaving the light of life, walk inside the dark maze.

But I can find no regret, I have give my heart to her completely, it wasn’t a choice, but a freedom completely to love fully. I did and only has one heart, and I did already give it completely to someone I dear most, even she then stabbed it in front of my eyes – I think I am glad, at least I see the truth in the last, that her love never exist at all.

Now I am a heartless being, with only a deep wound within.  And, colourless nightmare would be the only colour of the night. Or someday maybe, there would be colourless tears.