Train Of Thought

Of mighty revelation and lowly wonder; succeeding in faith, comprehending in thought.

[thepoeticwit]

a day at grandma's

“Don’t you feel lonely? Being by yourself?”

“Well it does feel lonely sometimes…but it helps when I focus on the things I am doing”

She tells me how, when son or daughter leaves her be, she does her exercises, busying herself with chores, cooking, watering the plants…most importantly, taking naps!

“I have to lie down, boy! My head is dizzy”

Eight decades and more, she breathes. God knows the birthdays, weddings, anniversaries, celebrations, and funerals that must have graced her eyes. Even more so, yesterday, seeing her husband cross that rainbow bridge; his picture by the altar of the Son of Man.

“Do you miss him?”

“Well, we used to do everything together. I miss him…but what could we do? It’s not like we could bring him back or keep him for longer…”

Grandpa suffered then, it was just his time.

Still I wondered what death would taste like. I wondered if she thought the same.

“Grandma…sorry, not to be morbid, but have you thought about what it would be like when your time comes? Seeing as you’ve gone through much of life…”

At this point, memory fails to recall (alas! young as I am) what exact words were spoken by her - but much of what she said in reply and especially these words impressed upon me:

“It is whatever God wills”.

[thepoeticwit]

absolution.

freedom or chaos two sides of the coin held by watcher, heaven’s son looking on earth’s face falling for her daughter fallen from God’s face, disgraced by his brethren a year and eight, too late is this love for earth and daughter blessing or curse, he ponders as he revels in dust and dirt, was it worth it? as the earth pushes him from womb, gently rejecting ejecting into waters, rebaptised now caught in limbo state awaiting

[promptsbytaurie]

dialogue prompts: five words

!!please credit/tag me if you use any! I'd love to see what you write!!

"This story has one ending."

"Give it a shot, okay?"

"It's way past your bedtime."

"Is this really worth it?"

"Believe the prophets, they're right."

"You're not real, are you."

"Truth is nothing without lies."

"It was me, wasn't it?"

"The world wants me dead."

"'It'll be fun,' they said."

"What an... interesting first date."

"You're such a drama queen."

"I thought you were alone."

"Wish I was dead now?"

"This cannot be a new concept."

"So you didn't have to."

"Has anyone helped you yet?"

"I'm adjusting to civilian life."

"Take it to the boss."

"You really live like this?"

"I don't want to remember."

"Is it me or you?"

"Am I still a god?"

"We have work to do."

"Is there something you're hiding?"

"Stop stealing all my thunder!"

"It's November, put it away."

"You're so brave, little one."

"I believed in you too!"

"Can you just stop trying?"

"What did she ever do?!"

[thepoeticwit]

Interesting, will attempt some of these prompts some day.

[thepoeticwit]

the art of noticing

If I can describe Dorothy in one word it would be: adventure. My friendship with her this far has been nothing short of it. Taking trips into parts of KL together for meals and recreation makes me notice something new and meaningful each time. Living in moments like these is an art itself - it's like taking a deep breath and letting this sense of appreciation wash over you.

[thepoeticwit]

E S C A P E .

The fault with seeing the world through rose-coloured glasses is that we do not know when to stop.

When the lights at the crossroads flicker red, all we see is light, not colour.

We run, we hide in nostalgia's walls, playing with the toys we grew out of, talking to the skeletons in our closet.

"Life is so strange," we say, as though we are no stranger ourselves.

Romanticise, don't realise love is like hate passion like anger, anxiety and blood, just another fluid

Roses, red all the same

Wine, flows through oesophagus like water flowing like tears of the child's sighs at night yearning for a relief of the pain of a

strange life

being no stranger ourselves

seeing the world through rose-coloured glasses

not knowing when to stop.

[catchymemes]

[thepoeticwit]

We Accept The Love We Think We Deserve

"We accept the love we think we deserve"

is a quote that came to mind within the same breath of our conversations about love and relationship experiences.

We boggled each others' brains with how each of us were able to put up with the bull dung we have faced with the people we loved.

"You're very accepting! You deserve better..." "Thanks, but I'll take what I can get"

For what I've learnt, no one is perfect on this side of eternity. To have the heart to love someone means to sacrifice ourselves for their greater good - to be patient, to be forgiving.

Yet, there must be that trust and respect for each other, for that relationship. That's where boundaries come in. That's where accountability is needed. Because you love and trust each other.

I'm still learning - that to participate in love means not only giving but also to be recipients. There are those who only take and take, but never give, and that is evil. Still, there are those who give and give, but rarely take, in fear that they become selfish - fearing that they may be in sin. Although it is more blessed to give than to receive, still blessed is the one who receives.

And for the one who receives, receives inasmuch that is in their capacity to.

Perhaps I tolerate the nonsense of others because I am no different. And that being no different, I feel that I deserve the cards I'm dealt with. Hell, do I not deal these cards to others too?

Still, perhaps I'll be proven wrong, when I find those who willingly lavish upon me their love more than I feel deserving of. Still I know there is already One who has done so (Praise His name!).

So to this day, though I may breathe "it is what it is" and carry on pouring out my love upon the people who come and go, at least I now know that it is not wrong to ask for just a little more.

O, to be loved by you a little more.

[thepoeticwit]

selfless struggle against selfish feelings.

Still, the thought lingers - should I one day disconnect, or disappear, would my absence be felt?

Was I ever needed- no, wanted? Or perhaps I was needed, wanted, as just another tool to be used - to be useful to someone, for something.

As a young man, I've realised how so often have I hung my worth and value on my strengths and usefulness. It's about what I bring to the table. While there are kind people out there, I have heard my share of stories, how the world has always been one of ugly dogfights, among other things.

I cannot afford to lose out. Or can I? Maybe it's all a ruse. Perhaps, one day, I'll give in to my tiredness, yell, "it's enough" and disappear.

Maybe I am a coward. Maybe I am less of a man. Maybe, if I were to deny myself this right - to be free of the desire for my own freedom and pleasure, to take pleasure in being bound to the care and service of others, then will I truly be free, be strong, and be the man I should be.

In this case, let me be; I cannot win. I must surrender.

[thepoeticwit]

What True Love Is

But really though, are you loving someone for who they are or do you only like the idea of them?

Yet, how else can we get to know someone if we have no idea who they are in the first place?

And this is how we get to know them, by our reception of our perceptions of their intimate expressions.

Then again, how do we know if we truly know them and if we love them for who they are and not just a mere idea of them?

I must say, you will truly love someone for who they are when you have taken the time to perceive and are open to accepting all their possible expressions of self, rather than creating an image of them based on the parts that you like or expect from them.

Truth be told, we can only know so much. While we may think we know our loved ones, there's still so much more to discover about each other as all of us still have a little more growing up to do.

Let us not grow weary in loving one another, that though we toil we shall grow in our embrace and be fruitful.

[thepoeticwit]

The Remedy for Addictions

the reason for our addictions is found in our cowardice.

we are too afraid to face the beasts which we call our selves.

so we tame it, indulging the flesh and inciting the emotions - escaping into temporary fantasy to evade the dull sufferance of reality.

we are cowards, who with a false hope and longing seek to be free, but who know not the desire to fight for it.

such is our cowardice - alas, who will save us from this body of death?

yet, thanks be to God, for Christ has provided a way out - perhaps not all hope for freedom is lost after all.

all that's left to do is face ourselves and be free.

[thepoeticwit]

Life After Death

It's funny how the very place that supposedly represents the tragedy of death is one which breathes a kind of tender sacredness. Almost tranquil, one which whispers the mysteries of what the other side of eternity might be.

We laid grandpa's bones and ashes here to rest, his soul on that other side. Still, as I walked among the headstones of these other strangers, I could only wonder what stories they lived out.

I see these names, the dates of their passing - 2009, 2010...I was but a boy fooling around in school, oblivious. Funny to know these stories which ran parallel to mine; the world seems so small. Still I see the decorations and writings left behind by their loved ones - these dead strangers meant something to them.

It only reminds me - although we die, we still live. Each person is a soul to be loved with a story to tell. So even should the body fade, their soul remains loved and their story not forgotten.

May the souls of all the faithful departed, by the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.

[thepoeticwit]

Of Life, Death, and Peace.

What does it mean to live a "life in abundance"?

Amid the chaos and motions, amid uncertainty. Under reminders and threats of death and disease which plagues lands and lungs.

Is there still a space for peace? Peace that surpasses even our own understanding?

Perhaps, while one must acknowledge fears, wiser still it is to trust - there is One who hold it all together.

Have mercy on us, I pray.

[perahn]

Palm Sunday, 2020

There is no triumphal procession today, no cheering mass of crowds: no press of bodies, sharing warmth and mingling breath. The streets are quiet and empty save a pair or two, walking carefully separate.

We do not stand outside waving palms cut from someone’s garden, the children restless, vying for the ‘best one’, ready to wave them, singing, and enter as Jesus enters Jerusalem.

See, he says, I make all things new.

Today, I am in front of my laptop (old as they are made to age, silver case greyed with shed skin, guilty crumbs among the keys). I forgot to brush my hair or dress and on Youtube, eight hundred souls are waiting for the livestream to start.

The Archbishop mouths a blessing: the sound isn’t working, and the chat is full of people repeating it like a response. Somewhere in the First Reading (“I did not cover my face against insult and spittle.”) they stop to fix what’s wrong, and begin again.

In my flat, two cats watch as I stand and sit, and kneel. I sing: My God, my God why have you abandoned me? and demand Crucify him! even though the priest is reading the shortened Passion by himself.

He looks into the camera, and asks us to lift our palms for blessing. I wasn’t prepared. I fling open the screen door and snatch up a weed from the courtyard (I meant to pull those out a year ago). Its burry seeds cling to my fingers. The root’s intact.

It isn’t much to lay beneath a donkey’s hooves.

Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof. Familiar words, never consciously learned, deepen their meaning now. Of course God is here, and always has been: still sometimes I forget to welcome him.

Come in, Lord: I’m sorry about the unswept floor and dirty dishes and all the dim corners where I put things I want to ignore. It’s no way to treat a guest, much less You: who roll up Your sleeves and get to work.

A mystery there in bread and wine and here, in the absence of either: physical touch is dangerous these days. I cannot take Your Body into my hands but Yours caress all the same. My throat is tight, a stinging under eyelids.

You enter Your Kingdom this year with no glad hosanna cry. We will stand at the foot of Your Cross six feet away from each other, a host holding on to gossamer threads of Wi-Fi. You will walk alone from the Tomb as ever and we will celebrate in electric alleluias.

[thepoeticwit]

our lives are a wilderness.

we are wanderers in a foreign land, exiles in search of home. nomads who shift through dirt and sand. Is this where we belong? A desert, a wilderness. A path made through promise of a kingdom paradise, so close and yet so far away. 40 days and 40 years are but a lifetime our lives are but a wilderness though we fast and pray trials and temptations come our way Be not fooled by Devil's sweet whispers But continue past these 40 days and though you fail in one way There is One who fasted and prayed overcame, and calls to you "Behold, the Kingdom is near" Repent.

[thepoeticwit]

The Gift of New Beginnings

The past two months have presented us with timestamps, checkpoints of sorts marking the change or transition from the old to the new. What caught my attention during this transition was how we celebrate these moments…with gifts! Christmas, when we exchange presents of every kind, New Year’s where we exchange greetings, and now Lunar New Year with money packets and more of our best wishes. And when those events had concluded, we pour out our feelings of regret, of it having come to an end, not spending as much time as we could, and yet also feelings of gratitude that we get to enjoy these moments and anticipation of the next time we get to celebrate.

Much like life, things always come to an end. We dread the time when the things, or the seasons we’re in, what more the people we love, end or become absent from our lives. Yet, endings aren’t necessarily a bad thing. It’s natural to be sad over an ending. The mantra, “don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened” is incomplete without the “it’s okay to cry”. Because such a good thing happened, it’s okay to be sad over its ending. So cry because it’s over, *and* smile because it happened - and anticipate greater things to come. Because if such good things happened in your life, then perhaps surely there will be things just as good if not greater which are bound to take place, no? Perhaps, some things come to an end so that new things can begin.

A reality check of mine recently threw me into this contemplation - in making sense of the unfamiliarity of new seasons and circumstances, it is important to be thankful for what was and yet to not cling on to that which has passed. The endings of the old present us with a gift of new beginnings. More than a whole new year is the gift of each new day, as well as each new moment. It’s natural to be fearful of a future that is unknown to us - we fear what we do not understand, after all. Yet, should we treat each ‘newness’ as a gift, we are greeted with the grace to carry on, starting with now. I honestly do not know what my future looks like, even now as I am experiencing a new season. But what I do know is that it is a future filled with wondrous possibilities, filled with new adventures, new experiences, new passion, new pleasures, new pains, new chances to love, new chances to give thanks, new chances to be humble, and new chances to give and to receive.

One step at a time, one day at a time - appreciate each ‘newness’ while it is *now*, and worry not for tomorrow.

[thepoeticwit]

He Carries Me

Rest assured, we wage a constant war that spans a lifetime. A war already won, and still not yet. Warring against the tides of life, against falsehood and darkness, against the wicked desires of our flesh, against subtle temptation, against evil lurking in the corners, and evil that sits in high places.

It will be tiring, what more exhausting, even to the point one would back down, be disheartened, disillusioned, or so far as to stray off course or shrink back. One would even question their own worth, identity, and beliefs based on how far they have fought the good fight, if the fight was any good at all.

As if it depended on our strength to begin with.

Though we are commanded to persevere to the very end, we are not left to our own devices.

The Lord fights with us, and even more than that, He goes before us. He fights for us.

And He wins.

That's why He says, “Come to me, all who labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

It’s funny, the way He tells us to take up the yoke, to carry that burden. But it is light - because He is strong. “Abide in Me,” He says, for there can be no fruit without the relationship, without clinging again to the Saviour who paid it all to redeem you and I.

Rest assured, the life we live on this side of eternity will continue to exhaust us. Still the promise remains - “those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.”

Lord, grant us Your wings, we pray. Amen.

(Matthew 11:28-30; John 15:4; Isaiah 40:31)

[thepoeticwit]

Forgiven.

We are cruel people who live in a cruel world.

The moment someone is caught in the act of a grievous fault, they are - as we like to say these days - “canceled”. Antagonised, socially outcasted, despised, shamed, rejected, avoided.

We have all experienced being either the canceled or the canceller.

It makes us even harsher to ourselves. Besides, wouldn’t we hold ourselves to a higher standard if we are to judge others that way? To do otherwise would be hypocritical. And because we see others that way - or have been seen by others that way - we end up defining ourselves and each other by the bad things we have done, rather than the good we aspire to be.

“I am stupid because (insert stupid mistake here)” or “I’m a failure because (insert failures here)”

Consider how clinging to regret and defining ourselves by past faults holds us back from truly moving forward. I am not my mistakes, and neither are you. You and I, dear friends, are only human - though imperfect as we are, yet forgiven, acceptable, and loved.

So what do we do with these faults? I say to you, Christ has washed them all clean. But as for you, I pray that you would find the grace to choose forgiveness for yourself and for the other. Then learn from these mistakes, move past them, and grow to be better than who you were before this. We are always growing - these mistakes don’t have the final say.

And if I have offended you, I hope you forgive me too, as I will forgive you.

Your mistakes don’t have the final say about you. Let’s move together.