A tiny sun drenched backyard
bougainvillea luxuriantly blooms
unbounded, like eternity
Books I finished reading during the pandemic:
The Miniaturist by Jessie Burton
Victory by Joseph Conrad
Mastering the Art of French Eating by Ann Mah
A tiny sun drenched backyard
bougainvillea luxuriantly blooms
unbounded, like eternity
Books I finished reading during the pandemic:
The Miniaturist by Jessie Burton
Victory by Joseph Conrad
Mastering the Art of French Eating by Ann Mah
The Place
The surprise of hearing my own voice
like seeing slivers of light filtered between the trees
The words are whispered which I could have missed
Words of encouragement, a push
My eyes are closed, my attention sharpened
I am resting a bit after walking long
My breathing is trying to catch up with my steps
In trying to reach my goal I struggle
There are benches, handrails, sources of spring water
I am vulnerable but not feeble.
I am not alone, or helpless
Though night is approaching I am not lost.
Is it the wind or spirit descends from above the trees
A voice telling me a place in eternity
The place where I am going.
A glass of wine and rain on a March afternoon
She says she just visited Morocco
Ate a lot of foods served in tagines.
I struggle to know
The imperfections of a place
To find a solution, an honest quest
Some look familiar, others look relevant
A little twist, a little nudge can move small stones
Inspiring but not enough to tackle boulders
Unheroic simplicity to a balanced life.
Even busy exhausting life
Can point to God
With his never absent mercy and love.
To seek God is not for a day or a month
It’s not a pilgrimage
It’s a lifelong task, I will find in him
“The ultimate reasons for things.”
Sometimes we feel dead in our faith
Sometimes we feel invigorated like spring
The desert of lent is not devoid of life
“Rise, do not be afraid.”
Search and work
Search the depths of your life experience
for revelations of the sacred
Maybe they are ordinary
Maybe they are unnoticed
God is always working for us to find him
Is he beyond my comprehension?
I have to observe silence and be attentive.
With my human frailty I have to work harder
Not only in prayer but in faith
Selfishness and pride in spiritual ventures of disguises
Are difficult to discard without grace.
It’s a feast to plant and to harvest
With divine help.
At the end of day
I wipe sweat on my forehead
Thanking the Lord for the work done.
It’s Lent
A new time to bring us back to God
Forgotten often during busy hours of work
Or diverted in digital temptations
Come in silence. Sit still.
Quiet the tumult of your heart,
A few minutes of rest.
A time to affirm who you are.
Remember who will be tempted afterwards.
A Task
A point is tiny
but can make a difference
After a long series of words
can make one weary
a point or a period
can be a savior
a place to pause, rest
You can try
after a long succession of tasks
to breathe deeply
have a drink of water
a moment can brighten
you are ready
for the next task
or even kiss a girl.
A time of windy days, of falling leaves
Trees of fertile, intricate roots, anchored
Rarely do we enter the woods
As if we are afraid bears or snakes may cross our path
Thursday afternoon or any day,
Any ordinary day, is a day of sauntering,
Luminous time of spending an afternoon
Without concern of looking backwards
Not to imagine but to experience kindness of time passing,
To experience ourselves vulnerable and alone sheltered in the woods,
I like to think distant birds return because of me, a selfish notion of enticement,
Dreams die not because of unimportance
Though lustrous, their solace is celebrated no more
If you are struggling just to survive, are you missing much of life?
I encounter the homeless and heard of refugees
They crowd the margins, tiptoeing the edge of the cliffs,
The deep sea below and jagged rocks.
Each morning they look for a clean place
to be alone.
Life of abundance, life of scarcity, life of loss
And the liminal spaces between
What are the life’s possibilities and questions?
Intense experiences challenge the boundaries.
Solirude. Tumult. Arrested time.
The book I’m reading, page 37, asks,
“What’s the measure of your worth?”
Priceless, I shouted.
Catching a virus is misery
Coughing myself to exhaustion
My head feels heavy
Then as if an angel visits me
Everything is lifted
A moment of stillness
I feel so light
as if I can rise from the window like a kite
I feel eternal
As if free of all temptations
Time starts again
gravity returns
a tickle in my throat
We lose sleep because we want
To know if our life has meaning
What’s the meaning we are looking for.
I pray for the Holy Spirit to help me
I went to see my primary physician today. Seeing a physician is a confirmation of our mortality. We are mortals. We are subject to decay. It’s a morbid reality.
When we pray we affirm our hope for immortality.
We should realize both conditions offer us a chance for greatness. Greatness means steps of extraordinary work. Greatness is immortality in the eyes of man and God.
My doctor told me I have work to do.