The Light

bat lightThe days came shorter and the nights longer.

Gone were the flowers that blossomed its way unto spring, and the bees that have sucked its sweetness that was foreboding. The waters that etches its way down to the caves of mounds to bury itself for their second coming now lies frozen like sticks suspended between the jagged leaves.

The number of doves that loved to rummage on these tiny wooden planks by the porch continues to dwindle, a simple reminder of Darwin’s indiscriminating ferocity.

The memories of the day had come and gone, like distant echoes of a bad dream, forever now embedded at the back recesses of the mind. To which however one might try to exorcise, will forever reside there- to haunt you, remind you, and torment you.

The whole cycle, however excruciating it may be, is a painful but necessary process of trying to continuously evolve. You don’t just move from point A to B, you also had to endure the velocity and the necessary energies to muster that journey. And once you came to point B, you just don’t stop, because once there, you will get to meet Newton. And you will just keep on going. And going. You know you had to.

What consoles us is the never-ending presence of the Light. Like they used to say, there is always light at the end of every tunnel, however long that tunnel could be. It’s both the alpha and the omega, its arms always stretching itself out to whoever needs it, timeless.

It may bend, and it might hide, but it never fails. Even in the darkest of nights, and even in the faintest of its dying form, it would still fulfill its duty of providing a flicker not of just light but, more importantly, of hope.

All through the night every single night, the light had stood guard, slicing the darkness like a sword whose blade disembowels the remains of whatever darkness has in its flesh. In each blow it pierces itself to minute spaces where nothing can ever be. In its rays were perfectly carved its destiny like a tomb had marked its dead.

Ahhh, the day is set and gone, mumblings of a frail mad man.

I needed to set to sea, where my lungs can never be large enough to breathe in so much air, and my eyes could never be wide enough still to see so much beauty, nor my ears could ever hear the extent of the changing tides, where the unending horizon meets the edges of the stillness of the ocean, where the sun dutifully kissed the seas.

Wherever I may choose to go, and however which way, I know with ridiculous certainty that somehow, sometime, I will get there.

For the Light is always with me.

Slip Sliding Away
Lost in Space

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