when i found this road

when i found this road
with it's narrow path
i said to myself
that i will not pass
though the signboards say
that it leads to where
all my joys i'll find
where i'll finally stay.


my heart said to me
you should pass this way
just believe the words 
that the signboards say
this is where you'd find
all the joys you seek
this is where you'll have everlasting peace.



the Old Sages and Masters always remind us -- go inside!

seek within, find thy Self.

this is where all roads lead . . .

firefly people

just a couple of weeks back my daughter sent a text message to me.  she's coming home late at night from school and she wanted me to wait for her by the village gate.  we always fetch her.  either my wife or i, every time she comes home late nights.  we don't want her walking alone from village gate towards home. there've been several reports of people getting held up even inside the village premises.

it had just stopped raining. there's a storm a-brewing and rains and winds come intermittently.  it's almost 11:00 in the evening.  i sat by the cemented steps of a nearby store overlooking the street just outside the village gate.  the sky above is hazy and you could not see even the nearest star.  there's a slight drizzle and the wind is trying to make up its mind whether to blow gently or roughly.  i amused myself trying to make out the night sounds i'm hearing, whether they were frogs or night lizards or night birds perhaps? 

i did not wait long.  a jeepney stopped by and my daughter alighted from it.  i stood up and waited for her as she crossed the street.  she smiled at  me and hooked her right arm on my left arm.  we marched lazily up towards the village gate.  all of a sudden, electric power was cut off..  all of the street lights were off.  it was very dark. we stood unmoving and tried to get ourselves accustomed to the blackness. 

"father, look!" my daughter exclaimed.  she nudged me and directed my attention towards the empty lot just in front of where we stood.  i squinted my eyes a bit and fixed my gaze to where she pointed.  instantly i saw what she saw.

"fireflies!" i said, "lots of them."

they were beautiful against the blackness that surrounded us. little pinpoints of light. dimming then brightening in rhythmic abandon.  pinpoints of light in dance.  teasing the darkness that suddenly engulfed us. darkness that cannot extinguish their little lights.  darkness that actually intensified their glow!

"it's been so long since i last saw these many fireflies." i confessed to my daughter.  she was listening, i know, but she was focused more on enjoying this impromptu dance of lights.

and then, just as suddenly, electric power was restored, the street lamps came on again and the blackness was subdued.  the show was over.  we slowly marched forward towards home.

before i went to sleep, i relived that brief moment. 

i realized there are firefly people. and they are in our midst.  living with us.  and many of them might not know it themselves. that they are firefly people.

they are the ones that have this inner glow, this inner light. that on occasions when we find ourselves mired in blackness or swimming in darkness, utterly lost, misdirected, they come forth.  some knowingly, many others unknowingly.  their inner glow, their inner lights suddenly getting magnified against the blackness. and their glow beckons to us, gives us joy, hope, strength, fortitude, direction and guides us through the blackness or darkness till we are able to step back into the light. into finding our own inner lights. and just like the fireflies, once light is restored,  they just fade out silently.  even us, we often never realize that we've been helped. 

so we never are able to show gratitude.  i believe that the best way to show thankfulness is to become a firefly person our-self.  on occasions of darkness or blackness, let us try to show our inner glow, our inner light, the best way we can.

then, soon as darkness is dispelled, and light is restored,

fade away silently ...  just like a regular firefly.

"why are you giving away that jacket?"

"why are you giving away that jacket?" the wife asked.

"well, it's because it's just there lying sadly in the closet, unused.  i found someone who has better use for it." i answered.

she understood.

a jacket becomes a jacket only if it's worn and serves it's purpose of giving warmth and bodily protection.  come to think of it, a thing becomes the real thing only when it is able to express its utility. 

so i gave it to a friend.  he was elated.

"this is real nice of you," he said approvingly while fitting the jacket, "i surely need this.  i'm driving a motorbike and this will protect me.  its bright colors will help other motorists see me better especially at night.  during rainy days, its water repellant material will prevent me from getting wet."  he gave me a huge thank you smile.

i realized this is also the very reason why i write.

sometimes i have this song in my heart, this poem in my gut, this story in my head.  i feel i have to write them down and send them over vast distances of internet space.  i am hoping that somewhere, somehow, these things i write will connect with someone.  and this someone will find some sort of comfort or solace or possibly a germ of an inspiration and enable him or her to live better in his or her part of the universe even just for a short while.  even for just that reading moment.

we should never hesitate to give away a spare jacket. 

and,

we should never hesitate to write down thoughts in our head.  we should never hesitate to express what we feel be it in a poem, in a song, in a painting, in a photograph, in a dance, or in any other medium of communication. 

we should never hesitate to try

to communicate.