I shed tears while riding a bus; consumed and exhausted from a labor of uncertainty. I gazed at this serene sunset, reminding me that a day shall end then I could rest. I wiped my tears, took a photograph and calmed my heart.
Alone in the room. Solitude has consumed me and all I could ever do was to peep through my windowpane at 5 in the morning. I wished someone was around, someone who could give me a hot beverage or tell me good morning. But, as I devout myself into silence, tranquility painted my life. I must at least be thankful for waking up.
I once told myself “Go write down your journey with your feet aching from long days of strolling in places you do not know, in sceneries you have not seen before, and in shops you visited to haggle for a souvenir. Do not forget to take photographs.”
So, here I am writing down lessons and experiences, not to brag and boast an underserved blessing but to share something deeper than a shallow travel abroad.
I want to share arts and culture I have witnessed, hope and faith I have observed, and wisdom and knowledge I have learned from my short trip.
- Arts and Culture
It’s the every detail of each place that makes the city extraordinary. There is an elite form of craft in every place of the country. Their canvas is their streets where the building’s aesthetics, the landscape, and the parks are worthy to gaze upon. The city speaks of its own kind of art that involved its culture and lifestyle.
There is this kind of harmony even if there are differences of language, races and religions. I learned during my trip that Singaporeans have Malay, Chinese and Indian races. These made me realized that the country is a heritage.
I can say that the treasure of the city is not the fast moving economic growth but the preservation of the arts and culture of the people that make the country one of the most visited places in the world.
27 July 2017
Through the years, I have experienced sadness in different faces. But, none of the faces seem familiar every time. I wept in my sorrow knowing sadness could be overcome through tears. I screamed loudly until I ran out of breath, believing it’s an outlet of my deep melancholic feeling. I write, most of the time, expressing my heartache that caused me to become sad. I noticed, each sad note I wrote was never similar, some of which were too deep, too deep to pierce my heart. Yet, all of the short excerpts from my sad expressions have never of the same value.
Even if I wrote with my heart poured out in each of my entry to my journal, still, every time I reread it, each has a different touch, a different cut of heartache. And it gives a different weight of emotion. It makes me feel like I am yearning for something, for someone that I do not know about. Every time sadness visits me, I would feel a mixture of nostalgia of places, of people, and of memories.
Then, I would remember precious moments; wonderful things shared with wonderful people and with that, sadness made sense. It made me realized the value of laughter, of meaningful conversations, of good company and of seasons.
I realized that for everything there is a season and a time for every matter under heaven.
“WAIT” by Russell Kelfer
Desperately, helplessly, longingly, i cried:
Quietly, patiently, lovingly God replied:
I pled and I wept for a clue to my fate,
And the Master so gently said,
“Child, you must wait.”
“Wait? You say, wait!” my indignant reply.
“Lord, I need answers, I need to know why!
Is your hand shortened? Or have You not hear?
By faith, I have asked, and am claiming Your Word.
“My future and all to which I can relate
Hangs in the balance, and You tel me to WAIT?
I’m needing a ‘Yes,’ a go-ahead sign,
Or even a ‘No’ to which I can resign.
“And Lord, You promised that if we believe
We need but to ask, and we shall receive.
And, Lord, I’ve been asking, and this is my cry:
‘I’m weary of asking! I need a reply!”
Then quietly, softly, I learned of my fate
As my Master replied once again, “You must wait.”
So, I slumped in my chair, defeated and taut
And grumbled to God, “So, I’m waiting… for what?”
He seemed, then, to kneel
And His eyes wept with mine,
And He tenderly said, “I could give you a sign.”
I could shake the heavens, and darken the sun.
I could raise the dead, and cause mountains to run.
“All you seek, I could give, and pleased you would be.
You would have what you want–
But, you wouldn’t know Me.
You’d not know the depth of My love for each saint;
You’d not know the power I give to the faint;
“You’d not learn to see through the clouds of despair;
You’d not learn to trust just by knowing I’m there;
You’d not know the joy of resting in Me;
When darkness and silence were all you could see.
“You’d never experience that fullness of love
As the peace of My Spirit descends like a dove;
You’d know that I give and I save, for a start, But you’d not know the depth of the beat of My heart.
“The glow ofMy comfort late into the night,
The faith that I give when you walk without sight,
The depth that’s beyond getting just what you asked
Of an infinite God, who makes what you have last.
“You’d never know, should your pain quickly flee,
What it means that, ‘My grace is sufficient for thee.’
Yes, your dreams for your loved one overnight would come true,
But, oh, the loss if I lost what I’m doing in you!
“So, be silent, My child, and in time you will see
That the greatest of gifts is to get to know Me.
And though oft’ may My answers seem terribly late,
My most precious answer of all is still, ‘Wait.'”
I watch as lovers pass me by,
Walking stories- whos and hows and whys
Musing lazily on love
Pondering you. .
We meet not as then we parted,
We feel more than all may see;
My bosom is heavy-hearted,
And thine full of doubt for me; –
A moment has bound the free.
The moment has gone forever,
Like lightning, it flashed and died,
Like a snowflake upon a river,
A sunbeam upon a tide,
Which the dark shadows hide.
That moment from time was singled
As the price of life of pain;
In the cup of its joy mingled
Delusion too sweet though vain,
Too sweet to be mine again.
Sweet lips could my soul not have hidden
That its life was consumed by you,
Ye would not have forbidden
The death which a heart so true
Sought in your burning dew. –
That, methinks, were too little cost
For a moment so found, so lost!
-Percy Bysshe Shelley