The Gift of Repentance

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My soul is at home among the faithful and the quietness of the church. Some people at the corner are bowed down in solemn prayer, some crying -people come and walk out quietly. Here you can be yourself - bare.  In moments like these, I can say together with the psalmist; compare to a thousand days better is one day at your temple.

How many times have I come running back to you? How many times have I been so unfaithful? Let me count the ways... No, you don’t count. Why am I so unsettled? Looking for I do not know what (The next big thing?) Looking for joy where you are the only true joy. Do I really believe that? My actions say otherwise. To seek your will first for you will take care of the rest. Do I trust that? I have tasted your goodness but where am I? Do I please you?

I cry, I cry. What poverty of the spirit!  Where is the storehouse of good thoughts and good will? Wheredoes wisdom lives? How about faith and love?

I cry, I cry. For who could contain you, who could understand? But you meet us where we are. What mercy! What love, and what compassion! Your kindness is what leads us to repentance. Even repentance is a gift; a reaction not an action.  And I don't want to take your kindness lightly. And I'm sorry for the times I do.

I look around and I see hearts, the hearts of your people opening up to you; petitions, prayers, thanksgiving. I cry, I cry.

Here in your house is truth. Here in your house is struggle. Here we come to rest, to wail, to lament. And what do you give in return? Peace beyond reason. Hush, hush, you know, you understand, our yokes and burdens, in exchange of your yoke and burden- easy and light.

The green light above the confessional's door indicates that the priest is in. I calm myself down and went in.

Forgive me Father for I have sinned...

         

            It has been a year since my last confession...

                                                                                             

                                     I am sorry for...

The priest in the confessional talks in straight English, I have to press my ears closely to the wall to hear him talk.

Grace...

Allow yourself to be touched by God's love. 

Ask for more of the Holy Spirit. Ask our Mother Mary for assistance.

Go in peace...

I close the door.

Our Father who art in heaven......Hail Mary full of grace....

I am overcome with so much emotion thinking of the Mother of God.

So Sr. San Jose, pray for me. You the man! Ah, the communion of saints.

Last time I was here, I told him that I want to be truly human not holy. Now I look at his statue with the baby Jesus with all the carpentry tools at their feet which I find so cute, I say, pray for me for I want to be truly human and holy too. He must have been laughing.

I look around again and I feel peace; more of you Lord, more of you.

***

I confess the same sins every year sometimes I'm afraid the priest in our parish would say, your sins sound familiar. Regarding confessions, my mom said, I do the same sins over and over again so what's the point. But I've heard a priest once said that the Sacrament of Reconciliation is like cleaning your house. You have to clean your house daily so as not to gather dust- so much wisdom.

There are so many things about the Sacrament of Reconciliation that I’d like to talk, like how it takes a whole lot of humility to confess your sins to another person, and how I find it the bravest thing a person could do. Of how it feels like to walk inside the confessional room and thinking, can I collapse now? And that I don't particularly enjoy doing the examination of conscience because it unsettles me, but you find so much grace in there. And if it's really heartfelt, a good confession with the grace of God heals you in so many ways.

  

Your Beauty Draws Me Near

You little flower melts my heart

your beauty draw me near

I cannot help

but love

How loving to me is your humility

Your head bowed down in sorrow fills me with compassion

Even before you call I am yours

Never hesitate to come

Never doubt my love

Take the first step and I’ll walk the rest

Let me be your strength

Come, come.

A little glance,

a genuine smile,

a prayer, a desire to be near,

an appreciation for goodness,

for beauty -

your simple ways of loving

fills me with joy.

So shine your light,

my star so bright

Your joy is my delight

Spread your wings

my butterfly

fly

ever so light

Through the Belly of a Whale

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Dark thoughts swirling in circles

swirling tight

Let go, let go

Not yet, not yet

let me hold

Tired, tired, soul

surrender now.

Life's a battle

but grace abounds

lay down, lay down

I will fight!

Here is my armor.

Little soul, you all geared up like that

melts my heart.

You need nothing else,

take it off.

These are all I know

These are all I have

This is me.

Put it down, it wearies you out, silly!

***

And just like that you make me smile and I’m healed.

Teilhard de Chadrin: Trust in the Slow Work of God

Trust in the slow work of God.
We are quite naturally impatient in everything to
reach the end without delay.
We should like to skip the intermediate stages.
We are impatient of being on the way to something
unknown, something new.
And yet it is the law of all progress that it is made
by passing through some stages of instability - and that it
may take a very long time.
And so I think it is with you; your ideas mature
gradually - let them grow, let them shape themselves,
without undue haste. Don't try to force them on,
as thought you could be today what time(that is to say,
grace and circumstances acting on your own good will)
will make of you tomorrow.
Only God could say what this new spirit gradually
forming within you will be.
Give our Lord the benefit of believing that his hand is leading you,
accept that anxiety of feeling yourself
in suspense and incomplete.
-Teilhard de Chadrin

I needed to hear this.

I needed to be in a certain place to hear a song with a line that says this is my desire: to honor you.

I needed to be with a friend who can be an instrument of grace.

I needed to make a mistake to realize that it is a sin.

To take a stand for I am lukewarm.

To plead His promises, for I know He will never forsake me.

To call for He will not cast me out.

And maybe one day hear wonderful and marvelous things I know nothing about.

How Animal Are We?

#WordsinAirProjectNo4

I stand and look at [animals] long and long.

They do not sweat and whine about their condition...

Not one is dissatisfied, not one is demented

with the mania of owning things...

Not one is respectable or unhappy over the whole earth. 

-- Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass, 1867

|Poem By Walt Whitman from Leaves of Grass

Joy of Christ Risen

"Never let anything so fill you with sorrow as to MAKE YOU FORGET the joy of CHRIST RISEN..."-Mother Teresa




#WordsinAirProjectNo3

Do You Still Hang Your Words in Air?

#WordsinAirProjectNo2

Do you still hang your words in air, ten years
unfinished, glued to your notice board, with gaps
or empties for the unimaginable phrase --
unerring Muse who makes the casual perfect?



|From a poem by Elizabeth Bishop to Robert Lowell

Writing Tip: Mark Passages that Please You

Train yourself to be aware. 

Mark passages that please you and reread them, 

searching out why. 

Underscore colorful figures of speech, 

taste their particular favor, 

pay special attention to rhythms. 

#WordsinAirProjectNo1

My Heart's Thanksgiving

Light of the world. My rooftop view.

Thank you for the morning dew on a mango leaf. It looks like mercury from a broken thermometer.

Thank you for the great peace the mountains have, unmoved and never undone- just like you.

Thank you for the little birds. I wonder where they go when it rains.

Thank you for the trees. Have they ever been this green?

Thank you for the sunrise, for a new day, another chance. Your hope for us is endless.

Thank you for my dad and for his soft, soft heart. He is getting old.

Thank you for my mom; truly i love how mischievous she is. There is no telling what she's up to next.

Thank you for times like this - for quiet mornings on the rooftop with you.

I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed.

Thank you for my siblings. Each one brings endless lessons yet to be learned. They know exactly where to push my buttons.

Thank you for the cold morning breeze on my face. It soothes my soul.

Thank you for mothers who prepare breakfast .White smokes above little houses- aroma of love rising up to the sky.

Thank you for little birds on sky cables and TV antennas.

Thank you for this peace. Let me have this kind of peace when I die, but not yet.

The Lord by wisdom founded the earth; by understanding he established the heavens;

by his knowledge the depths were broken up, and clouds drop down dew.

I am not worthy of you, but you stoop down so low I can hold you in the palm of my hands just like how you are holding me. 

Thank you, thank you, and thank you.

The Voice - Uwahig(Original Filipino Song)

The Voice Philippines - Blind Auditions: Juvie Pelos - Uwahig (Original Filipino Song) 

I cannot get over how beautiful this is. 

I felt like I'm in another dimension where fairies dwell. 

It reminds me of my grandmother and her friend lola Trining and their great, great grandmothers. 

It reminds me of a time where my lola used to bring us kids to the place where she grew up: in the mountains; deep, deep in the forest, where we have to say "bila-bila" once in a while so snakes won’t bite us-our magic word. At a time where we have to walk silently and say excuse me to unseen beings (fairies/enkantos) as a sign of respect for them. 
As a child we were scared of stories of fairies distorting people's faces because of people passing by their place without due regard for proper behavior. 

It reminds me of the time where me and my childhood friends went hiking up and we got lost, so lost, a dog found us and we followed him all the way down and emerged at a nearby Nipa Hut. As we were going down we traced a river with no water that has big flat stones as its bed and trees so big and old. It felt like it existed when the earth was so young. And you know it's just so holy and you have to keep quiet so as not to disturb the peace because other beings are there and you just know in your heart that they are there. 

It reminds me of my ancestors and the stories they tell. 

This song does it for me. As Apple de ap would say, it took me way, way back home; it took me to my roots.

Living Life Like This

O how I long to write you poems

for miracles to slow me down,

for intentions to start my day right

Send my roots rain

Wash me like spring,

on my dreams a bit of dew.

And in the morning-

meet me.