Friday, June 23, 2017

Her Name is the Tears of Heaven

Her name is the tears of heaven and often is the sight of her heavenly. She’s around me now, and forsooth, I pray for this moment to last endlessly. She always is, even when her absence takes place; even if in uncertainty I should believe, she’d still be around. She’s got those eyes that make me question the stars and their ability to shine. I find it funny how an ordinary girl can be a subject to an extraordinarily intense passion. From her name to her every aspect, she has become my world, and now she’s my all- my life, my death, my best, one who brings me my worst, my most, my least, my loss, my gain, my reward, my punishment, my shine, and most of all, my rain.  


Here’s the catch. Even though I interpret her fairness as a poet who decodes the enigma of his heart, no praise may be devised to truly define her beauty, and as long as my words and acts do not realize her real pulchritude, she won’t be mine. God only knows what happens next, but hey, what happens next, happens next. Yet, the unsure truth about tomorrow shall not discourage any lover, as I, to love his love. Wise men say that the world belongs to a patient man. Let pass the times, for they will anyway. The only duty that I am to fulfill is the duty of reminding her how much I cherish her in her flaws and faults, and therefore she must not be afraid because my love is real. I won’t frown upon her defects, nor will I take note of the errors of her whole being. I dear her as she is. Always.



I’ve decided to tell of her for my first entry so if I won’t be given my chance, perhaps this might be. Let this reach what my flesh substance cannot. Any move that I have thought of, I have given a rain check.  Anyway, to the eyes that read, can I tell you a secret? Soon enough, I will take steps. I will court her in all my glory. I will tell her how much I love her every single day. I will wait on her. Until her wounds heal. Until she’s ready again. And maybe one morning, I would wake up to her voice saying, “I’m home, at last.” 

(Photo Credit: Rainrose Fernandez) 

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