before May ends ...

i was looking out my window and i realized it is almost the end of May.  i remembered having heard a tv newscaster announce that the weather bureau had already officially declared that the rainy season has now begun.  it is true, the rains had indeed come more often than before and their duration had been longer.  the sweltering heat and dryness of summer would soon be replaced by the cold and wetness of the rainy season.

i can still hear the complaints and the rants and even the curses of people who have been discomforted by the hot summer months. and yet, i know, there will also be complaints and rants and curses as soon as the rainy months kick in.  this early, there was this occasion of rain where the volume of water delivered caused flash floods in many areas.

The season has many facets.  here, in my corner of the globe, it is either summer or rainy season.  in other places, it is interchangeably winter, spring, summer, and autumn.  each brings its own challenges and color to people's lives.

the Sages and Wise Men admonish us -- whatever season we find ourselves in, we must seek joy, specifically, inner happiness.  we must find contentment.  one must not wallow in the discomfort that the season brings but rather strive to recognize the brightest colors of that season whatever shades they may be, feel the energy it offers, accept the liveliness of being it doles out, see its own beauty, listen to its unique song.

for, Life is like this.  countless are its facets.  it will offer us many ways to live.

what is certain is, no matter the way of living we are in, Inward Joy must be our lot. 

let us find the Secret Smile of the Infinite.  this is inside each of us.

before May ends, when the Sun is up and burns the paved road, i will stand by the roadside and let the  heat slide over my skin, and cause me to sweat and soak my shirt, and parch my throat and make me thirst;  i will watch the dust rise up, i will feel the dry wind singe the slender spears of grass and the green leaves of the mango tree and make brittle its branches; and i will listen to the songs of the brown rice birds ...

for Life will be different after May ends ... the rains will bring a different life ..

in the garden, humming honey

it's  already 5:30 in the afternoon and the sun has slowly turned golden in the west, about to tuck her rays here in my corner of the globe, but still, the heat was very palpable and heavy on the the skin. no wind whispered among the green and brown of the plants i was watering.  no spectator birds either on my rooftops. no bird songs to amuse me this quiet afternoon. a tinge of loneliness surged in my heart.  i concluded my watering and watched as the last silver droplet fell down from the water hose.  it was unusually big and it hit a tiny white flower brushing my knee.  it's weight caused the flower to fall to the wet pebbles by my feet --

 " oh so sorry, little one, " i whispered to the little flower, " how careless of me!  " 

-- but i know the Infinite decides when one's time is up.

i stood silent, alone, there in my wife's garden. i have learned over the years, when melancholy hits you, just let it be, and be aware of your heart, close your eyes and watch steadfast inside, and let the inner ears listen ...

suddenly, I remembered this song by Bobby Goldsboro -- Honey -- one of the most poignant love songs I ever heard in English.  i hummed it and let my eyes become wet.  i don't know if the songwriter, Bobby Russell, just made up the story inside the song, but it sure made this afternoon sadder ... here are its lyrics ....

See the tree how big it's grown
But friend it hasn't been too long
It wasn't big.
I laughed at her and she got mad
The first day that she planted it
Was just a twig
Then the first snow came
And she ran out to brush the snow away
So it wouldn't die
Came runnin' in all excited
Slipped and almost hurt herself
And I laughed 'til I cried
She was always young at heart
Kinda dumb and kinda smart
And I loved her so
And I surprised her with a puppy
Kept me up all Christmas Eve
Two years ago
And it would sure embarass her
When I came in from workin' late
'Cause I would know
That she'd been sittin' there and cryin'
Over some sad and silly
Late, late show

And Honey I miss you
And I'm being good
And I'd love to be with you
If only I could

She wrecked the car and she was sad
And so afraid that I'd be mad
But what the heck
Though I pretended hard to be
Guess you could say she saw through me
And hugged my neck
I came home unexpectedly
And caught her cryin' needlesly
In the middle of the day
And it was in the early Spring
When flowers bloom and Robins sing
She went away

One day while I was not at home
While she was there and all alone
The angels came
Now all I have is memories
Of Honey and I wake up nights
And call her name
Now my life's an empty stage
Where Honey lived and Honey played
And love grew up
And a small cloud passes over head
And cries down on the flower bed
That Honey loved
And see the tree how big it's grown
But friend, it hasn't been too long
It wasn't big
I laughed at her and she got mad
The first day that she planted it
Was just a twig

http://youtu.be/ShAkerGftoU

i coiled the water hose and tucked it away. the golden sun still has not fully tucked away her rays and when i looked up they still lit a small cloud passing overhead ..

ah, melancholy ...

the reluctant gardener listened

ever since the wife implored me to be temporary caretaker of her beloved plants while she is away this leafdropper has always been a reluctant gardener.  not that i don't love plants.  it's just that i am sure i have not the green thumb.  

during high school days, there was this extra curricular subject where we were taught to hoe and tend garden plots by ourselves and to drop our chosen vegetable seeds and nurture the seedlings till harvest time.  i must confess my grades on this subject were terrible.  i have had this opinion that what's needed only is to religiously water the plants.  the sunshine and the gentle breeze and the generosity of Mother Earth will take care of the rest.  i discovered for vegetables such was a bad opinion.

yesterday, i again reluctantly came out and sprayed water on the wife's plants.  I don't even know what they are. I noticed they've grown so well these past months. they were robust and strong and green and upright.  some have already flowered.  beautiful, delicate white ones.  i am sure they're sweet-scented as well.  new leaves and stems have steadily grown but they were shooting forth in all directions.  the thing is, growth has somehow filled up the spaces between the plants and they are now appearing constricted.  something must be done to free some space.

i pulled out the pruning shears.  i don't know where to begin.  i am sure the plants are expecting me to do something.  i looked helplessly.  lost.  i fixed my gaze intently on the juxtaposition of the branches, twigs, leaves, flowers.  intermingled.  intertwined.  i knew the birds perched on my rooftop were observing me.  spectators all, warbling joyfully about this lovely day.  the afternoon sunlight gave silvery gleam on the beads of water that still clung on the leaves and twigs and stems.

i lifted the pruning shears and gently placed it over an unruly sprout.  i thought i heard it said, "go ahead, prune me!"  i did.  I kept listening for the go ahead whisper.  for the permission to cut. i kept pruning. lifting the shears over and gently placing over the spot where i felt I needed to cut.

leaves dropped, twigs fell, branches as well.  space being released.  constriction bring corrected.  i also heard something like, " can't breathe, please unloose the soil over this spot, " or, " i am vulnerable here, my roots are exposed, please cover me. "

i did what i was told as i kept listening.

finally, it's done.  everything looked pleasantly in order.  the birds were quiet now but still perched on my rooftop.  the sun has slowly turned golden and about to set.

i took the stickbroom and swept the cuttings and gathered them inside a garbage bag.  freshly cut plants have this particularly enticing scent.  

i felt relieved.  thank you, my plants, for helping me.

i am pretty sure if I'll be graded this time,  i will have passing marks. 

Happiness is time well spent.