Musing; Looming.

Looming;
The thrill would fade, they said.
It would pass in the blink of an eye;
The cloud of fantasy hovering over your
Head would fade like smoke when
Reality hits you.

This isn’t Zeeworld:
No amount of stalling, perpetual staring , Shrugging, and slow motion
Can utter the inevitable.
Allow me the flight of fancy, I insisted.
I’ll pass.

Not all dreams come through, I’m well
Aware, but that shouldn’t stop me from
Dreaming even for a minute, should it?
Not all the wholehearted love you give
Comes back to you in same measure,
But you can be rest assured…

It won’t come back void.
That life is full of uncertainties doesn’t
Mean certain things aren’t certain,
And that is what reality looks like.
Please allow me the flight of fancy,
I’ll pass.

La Joya.

Musing; Lost!

Clarity…
Wisdom to understand the choices
Before me and make the right decision.
Long have I been trapped in this cage.

My mind is a stranger.
It wanders in a lonely place.
Is this the crossroad?
I thought have been here before.

Is it time I think about?
I doubt it. It can’t be time; I have enough
Time–to waste and spend,  I think
There’s something far more…

Something more potent and eternal
That calls deep within me, taking sleep
Off my eyes and, striking a chord of
indescribable melody within.

I think I’m lost
And guess what?
I don’t want to be found—
At least not yet.

La Joya.

An Ode

Dear Ami,
Flattery they say is the cheapest form of distraction. A tool we use to take people’s mind off what’s underneath our true intentions from that which truly is. While this may be true with me in some cases, it is not in this case with you.
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My heart burst its banks, spilling beauty and goodness at the sight of your  splendor. And, guess what? My lips are but helpless than to shape the rivers into words as they are expressed within.
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You are beautiful within and without, my dear. Gracious, full of bliss and with an amazing sense of humour. Your spitting figure is a sight to behold; no wonder men swarm around you like a hive of honey bees. Your gaze, piercing as an arrow shot by an elf. You’re an invaluable treasure, my dear and I’d be forever thankful that our path crossed.
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I count myself blessed.
Yours forever,
La Joya.

Little Things Matters!

Dear Ami,
The last time we talked, you said a lot about establishing yourself, but then you were scared that you might not be able to get established before time—a common thread that runs through almost every heart. But then again, what if you were unable to have those establishments as planned would that make you a failure or less a person?
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While I can completely relate with your concern, I just want to reiterate that, life is about living each day to its fullest, and worrying about tomorrow only distract you from living today as you ought to. Be appreciative of the little things you got doing, my friend, as they sure brings about more. And always remember, little things matters the most in life.
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Yours always,
Tosan Orits.

Relevance

Dear Ami,
It gladdens my heart to see you are now a college graduate. It’s like yesterday when I carried you on my shoulders off to school for the first time. You were what? Hmm… 3years old I suppose. I still remember vividly how excited you were, and how you couldn’t wait to be in class. How time flies.
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I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the occasion. However, I’m not surprised you’re already being asked, “what next? Are you looking at MSc? When are you getting a job? Is marriage in the horizon?” And, the many other well intended, but pressure exerting questions which often boils down to the subject of relevance as you pointed out in your letter.
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Well, the thing about relevance that most people don’t know is that, it often bewilders than it illuminates. Because those on the other side of the class tend to define life by how relevant you are rather than how well you’re truly living. So my dear, don’t be afraid to go against “popular” culture in order to find your own truth. Care more about listening to your heart and being present than about being relevant.
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Yours always,
Presh Mologa