"Ice Cream"

Yes I am here.

I exist:

Waiting for a goodbye and hello.

A faithless ghost, with uncertainties no one knows.

Silently reaching out,

Though it just doesn’t show.

Chained to this blinding weakness-

A prisoner who can never be free.

Fighting this battle for eternity.

So in this world where the skies are blue

Flowers bloom in perfect hues

I am swallowed

by this overwhelming shadow.

Will that day ever come?

When anyone will see me, as I am?

The song I have yet to sing...

Just wondering when my heart will get to sing these lines:

I was alone,
You were alone,
Parallel lines that touched one another.
Just feeling our way,
Lost in the dark,
Drawn to each other...

So much to say, and So much to do.
So much of you for me to discover.
Like what makes you laugh,
And what makes you cry,
How does a friend become a lover, too...

I've waited all of my life to find
someone who'd need my heart and read my mind.
To light my days and warm my nights.
Someone I know I could call,
My someone for all my life.

Looking at you, Looking at me,
Loving the look of love that I see there.
I find when I look deep in your eyes
Reflections of me there.

I've waited all of my life to find
Someone who'd need my heart and read my mind.
To light my days and warm my nights.
Now all at once in your arms.
Everything's new.
All that I feel, tells me it's true.
All that I ask
Is all of my life... with you.

I see YOU

There isn’t an hour in a day that I won’t think of you

There isn’t a second in a minute that I don’t hold my breath till you walk through

There isn’t a moment in every look we share that I don’t see the beauty of your eyes

There isn’t a heartbeat that doesn’t thunder every time you bestow that smile

There isn’t a finger in my hand that doesn’t want to touch and feel your warmth

No amount of persuasion that would turn me away from your charm

No page in my book says you couldn’t be the one

Yes, I see you – now I feel so undone.

In Your silence

I often wonder,

Why can't the rest be like you?

Unassuming,

Loving unconditionally.

Silent,

And yet alert.

Despite all the chaos

Your affection’s unbent.

Making me your sunshine

Even in this quiet darkness.

But utterly clueless-

That in your presence,

And in your precious silence

You have spoken a thousand words.

And provided comfort,

And joy as well,

For who and what I am

Intensity 6.8

I never thought that today would be different from the previous days of 2012.

"Precaution No. 1"

I was getting ready for lunch at the office (and eventually, my cherished noontime nap) when I heard one of our officemates screaming “earthquake”. The warning was punctuated by darkness (power lines were immediately shut down) that I instinctively groped for my bag and my cellphone, held hands with an officemate closest to me, and went out of the office. My dilemma was to either wait for the tremors to abate or to seek the nearest exit and stay in an open space in case the quake’s intensity increases enough to collapse the whole building. I can hear a rumbling sound and literally see parts of the building move, including the stairs that we need to pass through.

"Precaution No. 2"

I realized right there and then that when the possibility of death and serious injury is but a few seconds away, one achieves a calmness of spirit and a sense of acceptance of what could happen next. We bravely took the 4 flights of stairs that appears to be swaying to the earth’s beat, unmindful of the fact that it might collapse any minute. It was by far the longest 20 seconds of my life. Fortunately, there were no pushing and shoving because those who were there with us were focused on only one thing:  praying. I have made it a point to memorize Psalm 23 and I found that the phrase “though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil for you are with me. Your staff and your rod, they comfort me” couldn’t be more meaningful than when I intoned it today. God became the center of our minds and hearts that it was no wonder we all came out of the building unharmed.

I immediately texted tats that I was okay but felt my knees wobble a bit. I also received a call from a high school friend (who is more like a sister the past 20 years) but I was too choked up to talk to her except to assure her that everything’s fine. God, in his loving way, heard what our hearts were hoping so that we all walked away from our harrowing experience badly-shaken, but grateful nevertheless that our worst fears did not happen.

Thirty minutes after the earthquake ceased-while I was on my way home, secure in the knowledge that today at least, won’t be my last day of existence- I simply took off my armor of facile strength and cried. I cried for the gift of insight to remain as calm as possible. I cried for the existence of friends who truly care. I cried for the realization that all the material things we possess mean nothing compared to the gift of life, and most of all I cried for yet, another validation that God loves us so much that he spared everyone from harm. I was shedding tears for the joy I felt within.

The quake’s intensity was recorded at 6.8, with forty two (42) aftershocks according to Phivolcs. This may not mean so much to some but to be in the middle of it without knowing when it’ll ever stop- or if there is a possibility that it will still get stronger- one becomes engulfed by a numbing fear that you can think of only two powerful allies: your instincts and most importantly, your faith in God.

"Precaution No. 3"

Traces of today’s trauma will surely haunt all of us who were there in the so-called “line of disaster”. I keep telling myself there is a perfect reward for all of us who plodded through this ordeal- and that is the thought that we are all very blessed to have come out of it unscathed. Filipinos that we are, we’ll definitely focus on the funny side of what we did like how one of us clung helplessly to our door post (and should our building collapse, just go down embracing a piece of wood). Or how one ignored possible aftershocks and risked life and limb to go back for her can of Coke. I too, could probably bring the office laptop with me or my textbooks and “save” them but all I picked were a plastic of rice and chicken liver. I was told a friend (in another office) jumped through several steps of stairs in her haste (probably in her high-heeled shoes and executive suit).

I’m just thankful that I could still write about this. That tomorrow, this will be nothing but a part of our history. Most of all, I’m thankful that God is so good.