daan lang..

just
dropping
by
this
empty
page.
(hehe!)

..will get back sometime soon.


take care everyone!:-)

Old photographs..

i only have the weekend to savor the day where things seemed to be on a rush each day lately. now i only have this moment to just sit down without thinking much of the time that passes by. and so as i was rummaging old files and listened to this music, i felt like missing the things, the people and the moments i used to be with.

allow me to share one..

http://www.imeem.com/simphatiko/music/-NSoygsv/jim-capaldi-old-photographs/

Yesterday I felt the wind blowing 'round my shoulder
Feel like I'm getting older
Still I can't forget your face

Separated by a million miles of ocean
My heart still feels emotion
Even in this lonely place

Old photographs and places I remember
Just like a dying ember
That's burned into my soul

Even though we walk the diamond-studded highways
It's the country lanes and byways
That makes us long for home

Lately I just find my mind has turned to dreamin'
Making plans and scheming
How I'm gonna get back home

But deep down inside
I know its really hopeless
This road I'm on is endless
We climb our mountains all alone


REFRAIN
That makes us long
For home

happy weekend everyone..miss you all!

The Man with a Hoe

As we join hands to celebrate "Father's day" with all the dads in the world, I would like to share this poem as there is something about it that really inspires...

Bowed by the weight of centuries he leans
Upon his hoe and gazes on the ground,
The emptiness of ages in his face,
And on his back, the burden of the world.
Who made him dead to rapture and despair,
A thing that grieves not and that never hopes,
Stolid and stunned, a brother to the ox?
Who loosened and let down this brutal jaw?
Whose was the hand that slanted back this brow?
Whose breath blew out the light within this brain?

Is this the Thing the Lord God made and gave
To have dominion over sea and land;
To trace the stars and search the heavens for power;
To feel the passion of Eternity?
Is this the dream He dreamed who shaped the suns
And marked their ways upon the ancient deep?
Down all the caverns of Hell to their last gulf
There is no shape more terrible than this--
More tongued with cries against the world's blind greed--
More filled with signs and portents for the soul--
More packed with danger to the universe.

What gulfs between him and the seraphim!
Slave of the wheel of labor, what to him
Are Plato and the swing of the Pleiades?
What the long reaches of the peaks of song,
The rift of dawn, the reddening of the rose?
Through this dread shape the suffering ages look;
Time's tragedy is in that aching stoop;
Through this dread shape humanity betrayed,
Plundered, profaned and disinherited,
Cries protest to the Powers that made the world,
A protest that is also prophecy.

O masters, lords and rulers in all lands,
Is this the handiwork you give to God,
This monstrous thing distorted and soul-quenched?
How will you ever straighten up this shape;
Touch it again with immortality;
Give back the upward looking and the light;
Rebuild in it the music and the dream;
Make right the immemorial infamies,
Perfidious wrongs,Immedicable woes?

O masters, lords and rulers in all lands,
How will the future reckon with this Man?
How answer his brute question in that hour
When whirlwinds of rebellion shake all shores?
How will it be with kingdoms and with kings--
With those who shaped him to the thing he is--
When this dumb Terror shall rise to judge the world,
After the silence of the centuries?


by Edwin Markham

"happy father's day to all dads!"

this little daisy

As soon as summer started, I just tried to plant one tiny stem of daisy in a pot. One month after, here it is!
I am not good in planting and so seeing this little daisy blossoming just made me smile. I haven't done this for the longest time. :-)

I guess it's like recapitulating childhood days. When there were more moments of capturing the little details of life and appreciating what's ordinary in our naked eyes.

white hair

It's been months already since mama decided to move back to papa's hometown. She just loves the quiet life it offers there than living in a city life. For some times mother would come and visit, still trying to attend to her church activities being a devout Catholic. I could not measure the hard work, patience and dedication that my mom puts in everything she does. However, there are times when we would argue on matters concerning her health since she worries much on other things than her personal needs. But every piece of advice from us would most often turn out to be just a poor attempt. Sometimes I feel like she's the busiest person in the world. And I despise it when I see her having too much anxieties about things. And yet, there's nothing we can do than understand finding her already overly sensitive when being reprimanded. At her age, I feel like she needs much to be understood most often than being put into question.

In one of her visits, I noticed that her white hair has grown in number. I remember those times when she used to have her hair dyed every once in a while. But then it seems to me that this time, she has stopped feeling conscious about it. I know my mother so well and all the things that hurt her and made her smile. I know her so well that sometimes I couldn't help but worry about our distance and for trying to live her life independently with papa away from us. Seeing her white hair seems telling me that it's time to have her and papa back home again. But she has been very persistent in choosing the kind of lifestyle that she's always wanted. And I wouldn't be surprised at all to see her again with her white hair even growing in numbers. Those white hair no longer telling me that it's time to have them back home again but already reminding me of the fruits of a mother's labor back when we were younger and of her unfading love.

Happy Mother's Day to all mothers in the world!