lonesome

a candle is spent lighted - in lighted spaces - filling the whites with what could's and what would's. in darkness then the eyes lose their purpose. there is nothing else but blankness - in blanked spaces - emptying the blacks with regrets and remorse of the what could's and what would's.

i saw you figuring a likeness to someone's echoes of being a nomad - of excising freedom from the world's excessive attachments. i never felt it with my empty posts.

would you have loved me if i could have informed you of some intimate delicateness in me that responds to your presence. i would not have immediately admitted that it was love. it could have been a sense of caring, a feeling of comforted convenience. maybe a spark that could have flourished into an ardour of what love might be. what could's and what would's. what might have been. 

and what seems to have happened is losing the flame. the warmth. the light. my vision towards an us had been shortsighted. i am now stuck in my empty place. blank spaces.


photo:
aberystwyth, wales
united kingdom
june 2015 

fall

as he was about to press a first key to start typing his conflict between boredom and enchantment, he couldn't resist noticing how his hands had grown pigmented and aged. he couldn't remember when the last time he noticed, and with the leaves from the old maple-like tree just a view distance from his bedroom window had already turned sullen and brown, it could have been a couple of weeks ago, or possibly a month. a period of fullness. living. greenness. life.

why had the season come to share his feeling of shedding and loss. had he already succumbed to the enchantment of the wild - with the impending winter's bidding to either coop in hibernation or fly away to warmer lands.

photo:
central park | new york
october 2015

as the sky burns from blue

he patiently waits.

for a confirmation of his letters, sent to different recipients, more or less working for the same cause. a same advocacy. a same principle or belief. or religion.

about this living world.
about nature.
about each and every diverse life in this habitation everyone calls earth.

as the sky gradually blurs from its bluish hue, a flame ignites, slowly burning delicate horizon from blue.

there he sits, and still patiently waits.

photo:
wat phrathat doi suthep
chiang mai | thailand
june 2013

directing ways

time seems to have slowed down when waiting for an opportunity to open, relative to how the days fly by so fast slyly telling you your increasing age.

photo:
amsterdam | netherlands
august 2015

sleeping

how the gentle damp kisses and cool caresses
of the heavens
can hush
the lush
of green canopies
and find the forest sleeping
inside gods' subtle embraces.

photo:
doi suthep | chiang mai | thailand
june 2013

quo

he would have continued on the same path.

drifting -
comfortably where the draft makes its sure pass,
securely above the highest rising of sure tides.

photo:
refugio de vida silvestre los pantanos de villa
lima | peru
september 2015

paso de patopampa

on the road between arequipa and chivay, travelers come across a highest pass point at around 4,900m. at the mirador de los volcanes viewpoint, one can find his/her air-deprived soul absorbed in the vastness of this almost lifeless patch of earth surrounded by snowcapped volcanoes that appear ever rising higher.

photo:
paso de patopampa | reserva nacional salinas - aguada blancas
arequipa | peru
september 201