The Gasp

To places and phases, clandestine chances,

I scattered myself seamless, unspoiled and belligerent.

Mindless of wounds and incessant bleeding,

I pursued with a goal, with an end to begin.

Rushing with all strength, defying inner fears,

braved each storm though shaky from within.

I succumbed to naught, while yielding to nothing,

“This is my battle!” or what I thought the least.

Lunging deeper, armed with sighs and hopes,

I tempted anonymity, inescapable familiarity.

What they see in me, unrecognizable liberty,

“Passion comes with sorrow; Sorrow lets me be.”

Shackled unaided, I strived to be limitless,

conceded to the curb, determined to be still.

As the grip loosened, I gasped, I knew,

I am bound. I have faith. I am Free.

Indifference

I find you amusing, not necessarily peculiar,

Like the moon staring at the sun,

Gravitating towards an absurd center,

I find it unnecessary to find your meaning.

Blame me for your being lost,

as you fail to find yourself in me,

I see you, beyond which is nothing,

Blame me.

On Learning and Training

Ernest Boyer captured every concept and motivation that I have regarding training through his essay, “The Educated Heart” – I encountered his thoughts 7 years ago and I was never quite the same since. The American educator introduced the vital question of, “with people becoming more knowledgeable, educated, and well-informed, have we actually become more human?” This question has always guided me and impacted greatly in my everyday dealings and encounters; quite significantly in the way I share myself in the community. “What really constitutes the educated heart?” “What does it mean to have one?” ‘What is it to be human?”

With the number of concerns that tag on us in our everyday lives, whether at work or in our private lives, we have the tendency to be fragmented and scattered, resulting to a compartmentalized life that assaults our calling for integrity and wholeness. This creates a problem when we exhaust ourselves by weighing and assessing as to “what part of myself would best solve this issue I am currently faced with?” Later finding ourselves more “divided”; and in our efforts to distribute ourselves towards specific needs we tend to lose those precious connections that define our relationship with ourselves, others, and God. It is thus the task of the one that lends himself to the platform to see the “connectedness” of things–social, personal, religious–to the past, to the natural world, to each other, and if possible, to the eternal. This is not an easy task for it takes more than knowing a specific set of skills or presenting an established procedure – the trainer must, and if experience allows, submit himself to these experiences and confront his own brokenness…he may not be able to move the world but to make a difference in another person’s life makes it much more worth it.

The Platform is a very powerful means to shape the human person – and it is definitely important to understand that communicating values should be at the heart of it…I have had my share through this experience, and as those people I have encountered who shared themselves with me, I too am compelled to do the same. Being a teacher or a trainer carries with it a social and moral imperative that is a challenge and a goal at the same time – he must also realize that this vocation entails a very daunting yet fulfilling responsibility where he must find himself consistently grounded and constantly growing.

New Year

From without, it always comes,

Never within, Hope, that is.

Yes, hope.

  

But the Self, it must,

Remain intact, as always;

To witness this given,

Yes, hope.

  

That’s why the hopeless’ main battle,

Is with the self; and this is how,

The holy does not lose hope,

Yes, the holy.

Of sons and fathers

Unsullied eyes, in silence, soliciting,

A warmth like no other emanates,

As you look at my being, I see,

The father, the son, and me. Solitary.

As I am my father’s son, a son you are to me,

Not a continuity, but a chapter,

Not a story, but an account,

With every moment shaped and shared,

Memories of my own emerge.

Those caring hands I felt, I now impart,

A spirit that never wavers, and a mind that looks above,

Teeming with gratitude, committed to a foothold,

And cherishing that which is valued most.

“You are my son, with whom I am well pleased.”

My gift, my prayer, my peace.

The Flight

I wonder…I must.
Am I bound to see within?
The very essence of everything that which is,
Center my thoughts on You alone
And in it discover that we truly Are.
I am who am.
Encompass truths no further
All is in me, as I am in you.

I am the center and I encompass all – love is defined.

The Prayer of Barrabas

My gratitude for this moment,
That you’ve invited me to be here,
By myself I know, I cannot,
Raise my spirit to Your Presence.           

Here before you, I am.
My soul, of Your own, now bows,
pains and fears, scars and bruises,
with gratitude and pride, unmasked. 

No words, no thoughts, no sighs.
I come with no petition nor praise,
only the humility of a solitary walker,
and the dignity graced to a created god-man.  

I pray to understand that I do not need to pray,
To be filled with Your silence, than to address,
To be consumed by Your wisdom, than to learn,
That I may wake up and be glorified by your Being…
For one day, You will call, and I will respond,
“In Your hands, I commend, everything that I am…”

Immense Brokennes

i must remain broken for you to be whole,
in a state of becoming yet willfully dispersed,
i had the will to live but life wouldn’t take me,i
n desolation, nothingness is seen. 

you, persistent and stubborn, collided,
jolted every piece of truth I held dearly.
exacting thoughts that loiter in my head,
albeit the smiles and hollow laughters, inversely 

us? when will you come? 
i will rest here for a while…
…reminiscing tomorrow in the now.
Salvation will never become.

Breathe through every sigh…

My walls laid firmly, I gasped,
Rise, arise, to the top of my being,
Not to ward but to invite senseless dealings,
Rootless trappings of manipulated declarations,
Mumblings of a fool like no other. 

Say it I say, expose yourself to me,
For my greed and utter entertainment,
Trample yourself unto the ground,
take pleasure in your wanton ignorance. Continue to bask on your illusion of power,
And be consumed by the eyes you surround yourself with,
When they know no better with their hollow cheers,
inconsiderate trumpets, subtle jagged grins. 

Dance, yes, I’ll sway through the malady,
blindly perceive your feet on solid grounds,
‘til these blades pierce through your side,
And with malice devour your spirit. 

I refuse to fold but will breathe through every sigh,
You can no longer harm me, you are mine.

Sunup

Bestow on me this one last kiss,
With closed eyes impart segmented fears,
Trace these lips with fingers unhurried,
Loneliness has no place in here, be still. 

This time I oblige with your solitary tear,
A rest before a sigh, I heave and no further.
My breath will be your breath, as one,
For I know it will be my last, no more. 

As my eyes give in to nothingness,
Your face will reside within my thoughts,
Be embraced by my soul when I am free
Caressing, protecting, immortal be. 

I will never cease rather yield to a pause,
Death will take me, a life offered complete,
Yet distance has no power here; divided,
Is something we will never be.