Dati pinagmamasdan ko lang ang paghalik ng tubig sa lupa
Pumipitik-pitik sa tenga ko ang lagatik ng
sabay-sabay na pag-indak ng mga mumunting butil
Nakakainggit ang tubig na sumasayaw-sayaw.

Sabi ng nanay, bawal ang magbasa sa ulan.
Hindi na malinis ang tubig ng langit
dala ng polusyon.

Hangin kang nagtulak sa aking lumabas
Tinuruan mo kong umawit sa gitna ng pagbuhos ng ulan.

You say it best when you say nothing at all

Lucky, I was able to bump into this unique, and I suppose original, version of When You Say Nothing At All. :)

Marinated Grilled Shrimp

3 cloves garlic, minced
1/3 cup olive oil
1/4 cup tomato sauce
2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
2 tablespoons chopped fresh basil
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
2 pounds fresh shrimp, peeled and deveined
skewers

-on for Sunday cooking. :)

I and my sister decided to put on a Sunday project-- cooking. I can't wait for it to kick in.

from Letters to Juliet

The greatest love story ever told is your own.

I can't promise you the calm after the storm but you can be sure that I will swim back with you to the shore.

I heard this song last night before going to sleep. The moment I faced the computer today, it's the first item I looked for in the web. That man, I hope finding him is just as easy as Google search.

From an Atlas of a Difficult World

I know you are reading this poem
late, before leaving your office
of the one intense yellow lamp-spot and the darkening window
in the lassitude of a building faded to quiet
long after rush-hour. I know you are reading this poem
standing up in a bookstore far from the ocean
on a grey day of early spring, faint flakes driven
across the plains’ enormous spaces around you.
I know you are reading this poem
in a room where too much has happened for you to bear
where the bedclothes lie in stagnant coils on the bed
and the open valise speaks of flight
but you cannot leave yet. I know you are reading this poem
as the underground train loses momentum and before running
up the stairs
toward a new kind of love
your life has never allowed.
I know you are reading this poem by the light
of the television screen where soundless images jerk and slide
while you wait for the newscast from the intifada.
I know you are reading this poem in a waiting-room
of eyes met and unmeeting, of identity with strangers.
I know you are reading this poem by fluorescent light
in the boredom and fatigue of the young who are counted out,
count themselves out, at too early an age. I know
you are reading this poem through your failing sight, the thick
lens enlarging these letters beyond all meaning yet you read on
because even the alphabet is precious.
I know you are reading this poem as you pace beside the stove
warming milk, a crying child on your shoulder, a book in your
hand
because life is short and you too are thirsty.
I know you are reading this poem which is not in your language
guessing at some words while others keep you reading
and I want to know which words they are.
I know you are reading this poem listening for something, torn
between bitterness and hope
turning back once again to the task you cannot refuse.
I know you are reading this poem because there is nothing else
left to read
there where you have landed, stripped as you are.

-Adrienne Rich

Brida

Read this book by Paulo Coelho last May. Wala muna kong sasabihin tungkol sa libro. Irereserba ko muna ang neurons ko sa pag-aayos ng mga bagay-bagay para sa Sabado at Linggo. Pero promise, babalikan ko ang post na ito para magkwento tungkol sa libro.

and just like that...

Some people have the power to drive you to the end of the rainbow and back and back. Be thankful for them.

Thank you.

-h

Read between the Lines

Oh, life is a glorious cycle of song,

A medley of extemporanea;

And love is a thing that can never go wrong;

And I am Marie of Roumania.

Comment by Dorothy Parker

Lately, I feel like a little child again. Mystery and happiness mix well. :)

Hold your head high, heavy heart.