I have waited all day for you-
This surrounding infusion
of stillness enveloping me
My smile suddenly
has no duty to please
but arises in natural beauty
from the truthful joy
in being alone, I bask unseen
in my own company for though I adore
so many in the world, I simply
love them more
after a chance to miss them.
Angelina Stanton, Sydney 29.12.2018
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 sums up 2018, a year of perseverance. I feel a call for patience in the new year.
May the fruit of the Spirit (love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control) be with me and you in 2019.
The sound of the wardrobe door closes is the best sound in the whole wide world. The wardrobe is like a hedger keeps the outside noise away. Mum’s endless sighing, sometimes sobbing…Dad’s jokes which only his drunk friends would laugh and his limited praising phases: that’s my girl… you are smarter than me and your mum tally up, or just shouting:” what the fuck is wrong with the internet now….fuck the copper WiFi shit…..”
Before we moved into this house, I had to screen out these noises by playing music in hip hop, house, trap genres with my earphones on. I felt my hearing was declining. My school friends told me I couldn’t hear them most of the time. I had headaches sometimes because so much noise.
This house is great, it is only a rental, but it is heaps better than the house we had before, solely for this full length wardrobe. It smells timber and feels grainy. When I close the door, it muffles a bit, but it is so quiet. I finally remove the earphones and stop playing the music. I read, write, draw and play on my tablet.
Winter vocation is coming. I am so excited because I can spend more time tuck away in the wardrobe. I have prepared a blanket and a cushion so I can even take my nap in this world of mine. Oh I also pulled out the reading lamp from the storage. It’s one of those rechargeable lamps with a clipping end. I envision myself reading under the warm light after diner in a cold winter evening.
The trashy TV sound, the storm created by human beings, the agony caused by unhappy marriage and unemployment, are all shut out by this squeaky timber wardrobe door. That is how my childhood will be preserved. I am determined that as long as I have my sanctuary in this wardrobe, I will grow up to be happy.
Dedicated to Misha
There is something therapeutic about showers.
For years I had fostered a habit of taking a shower once I walked through my front door coming home from a day’s work.
The shower took my day off and it was like walking out from a hussle bussle world into my sanctuary. It was almost like a sanctifying ceremony.
The shower centred me and set the calm tone of the evening. I often felt afresh and renewed.
When I met you, the first thing I did was adapting your “shower in the dark” daily routine.
There is something else all together when showering in the dark.
When your surrounding is dim. You would have to rely a lot more on your sense of touch. When showering in the dark, it intensifies the transition from day to night, chaos to calm, cluttered to clear mind, exhaustion to rejuvenation. It restores me and makes me whole again.
I put music on sometimes if the sound of the running water is mono. Music is also more impactful when listening to in the dark.
Showering in the dark sparks all my senses with pleasure stimulation. Spurge of energy flew out to carry me into the mysterious night dancing with the stars. I become alive!
The blues landed on me today
Even the sky is shedding tears
Sadness trapped inside me
Exhaling in vain
Where are you hiding, my cheery clouds?
I lost you in my dreams last night,
neither could I see you now.
The beginning of my melancholy days…
she collects your tears
washes away the blues
she sings you lullaby
sends sweetness to your dreams
she gives you rest
mends your broken heart
I know God is faithful and yet I still doubt.
Jacaranda blooms in spring gloriously on this patch of the earth.
In late Springs, I enjoy strolling down the street where they are all lining up and yearning each other. Romantic poems written about the magnificent jacaranda.
Yet, my inclination to jacaranda is God comes through by illustration of its splendour Spring after Spring overcame the nakedness in Winters.
“Consider the lilies, how they grow: they toil not, neither do they spin.”
God IS Faithful!