soft grumbles

God tricked me.
He gave me time
that does not stop
for anything. Just like
a snail that crawls
ever so slowly
from one point to another,
it reaches its destination
no matter how far
or what obstacles hurled
along its way.

God tricked me.
He gave me youth
to squander and abuse
so that I
can lay in my death bed,
inutile, suffering the pain
of an ignominius state,
devoid of all the dignity
I used to possess.

God tricked me.
He gave me strength
so that I can waste it away
and harm myself.
Reduced to decadence,
I am decaying even before
I am dead.

God tricked me.
He gave me friends
I cannot keep.
They will be there
for a while
only to return
living their own lives.

God tricked me.
He gave me the gift of life
only to take it anytime
He pleases. Gifts should
be for keeps
and so it is with God’s
little trick.

rolly

Labels: life

I wonder where the river flows.
It is difficult to see what lies beyond.
Does it take you out to sea
where abundant fish swim freely,
colorful corals breathe to multiply,
or where giant turtles spend
a hundred years?

These waters could lead to a dead end
where algae is replaced by silt
accumulated through the years
of wanton neglect,
storage of the bowels of a city
long dead.

I have always stayed at the river’s belly
where troubled waters churn,
swell with the monsoon rains,
dry up with a relentless sun,
or rise and fall with the tide
as a fickle moon tilts the earth to its whim.

I never learned where it starts or ends.
I cannot be a spectator all the time.
I better start paddling, discover
where it will take me.
But which way should I go?
Together with or against the flow?

Labels: life