Scent of wood

Bismillah..

Do you know..there's a box in the depth of a corner?

sitting there hunched, staring at the red curtain

as if looking at a theatre

sitting on that table, reading at surah Al-Ahzab

sea just outside the window

and the pledge

the pledge that I made under that wide umbrella

was that real?

the hard wood under my fingers

the soggy shoes treading the floody path

the starry skies, the brightest I've ever seen

yes, it's real

I figured so

*tears*

that the promise is true

remains true although I'd shut my eyes

- - -

there's a memory there
struck closer to me than all the conversations
the tears, the smiles shared
the heart that resolves on past & present issues

its the quiet
the quiet dance around each chairs/tables
every steps treading down freshly-mown grasses and paved walks
the quiet moment we'd shared by heart settling on singular page
or the understanding of every word
and the kind gestures

- - -

I need no words to explain who I am
what I love
what I can't
can you understand that?

- - -

Symptom of old??

Bismillah..

Am officially an oldie.

I missed walkmans, good-old-fashion books sitting on library shelves, statics of radios

Nah..i'm just rambling

just got back from the wild and swarmed with e-mails, facebook messages, ecetra ecetra ecetra

A wee tad bit daunting..

somehow..ma, bah.. now I understand your feelings handling us young uns ;D

whatever tide (changes) that comes at you

begin where You are

where I am?

where these pages takes me

where I stopped

where I moved on :)

please..take your time :D

- - -