Her pervious mind borrowed the cheerful child spirit into the age of balanced assertive thinking. Driven by her kinaesthetic sense she tried it all, got hurt often badly and learned her lessons very well. She made the rough journey from “carpe diem” to “memento mori”, deprecating her own ego and boosting her heart. Mitigating the material side of the existance she found greatest joy in the petty things full of life that surrounded her and her passionate heart got freed in time from many kinds of emotional skins revealing the core of a big romantic whose eyes closed for many things that make other women happy. For her winks coming from men, being touched accidentally or random compliments meant nothing, there was something above all these things that made her recognize love. Only one beautiful mind and one true loving heart could have been her love. She was completely resolute in her decision of never accepting half measures. She knew what she wanted and she did not allow anyone to waste her time.
And the day came when her fiery soul recognized that unique spark in his eyes. Completely silent in front of this epiphany of her life she felt that she found her one drop of peace in the deep blue ocean of torment: the enfant terrible found redemption.
¬ As I sink in the
beauty in your deep true eyes
my heart smiles and sings. ¬
220 words, memyselfandela, 2013 , Ligo Haibun Challenge
Last of the wilds.
Yes, that’s what I was born to be. I can lay in this snow and hold my breath listening to the silence , the meaningful silence of this deep wise breathing forest.
I can hear every creature breath around. The shy steps of deer, the hop of the rabbit, ths sneaking of the fox…
I remember how I’ve seen my father hunting a deer for the first time… How I cried watching the deer, how daddy cooked that night… And how I was eating… eating and crying…
Look at those clouds, and the light breaking through the branches… So much beauty… Such a fantastic light…
I can hear the voices of birds calling each other , sending signals in the sky, screaming my presence when I move. How can I possibly forget all that I learned in my childhood playing in here? I remember the sounds, the trees as they were 40 years ago, the paths that got lost and that nobody but me remembers… For the old men that knew this forest better than me are all gone, I am the last now… The last of the wilds…
living in the wild
the human heart finds things that
the eye cannot see.
hear nature breathing
for it’s your heart that makes you
the last of the wilds.
220 words, memyselfandela, 2013, Līgo Haībun Challenge
As the Communists were hunting them, Mihai, Ion and David decided to hide deep inside this forest, and so they became the only group of the resisance that ever managed to remain hidden and not detected for several years. The three of them, even though they had families, wives, children, had decided to never allow a soul know where their den was, after seeing how many times, despite all love, wives, mothers or children ended up by giving crucial information to the Political Police, sacrificing their own beloved without even knowing it while thinking that food or clothes or medicines will be sent to them.
By the news that the Communism was over and Ceausescu was dead the three men were absolutely reduced to silence, happy, finally free to return to their families and society but not knowing what a life in freedom ever could be.
They have left the den with a trembling soul though: a part of their life was left there and nobody could ever know what moments or feelings they have lived in that small chamber digged underground with bare hands in a winter’s night.
Sometimes they return to this place just to find again a part of their lost soul, as what for others looks abandoned will always mean only one thing for them : life .
this is my entry for the Five Sentence Fiction Challenge
Family. She was tought that this is all that matters. And it was because she was born in South America, in a family of strong characters, that Maria dedicated her whole life to her family. It was not easy to grow up in their rich family with their strong father and extremely religious mother.
Maria was the best in everythng, better than her brothers. Now a doctor, mother of two, wife and daugther she was facing her own drama: the cancer only left her few months to live.
It was only now, after a lifetime’s sacrifice, that her family forgot all the rigour of rules and discipline and supported her. Countless drugs and treatments were tried, countless clinics contacted, a cortege of specialists came straingt to the family villa to see Maria and find a cure. Even the old mother, Lucia, swore crying on her knees, in front of Saint Anthony, that if her daughter will regain her life she will live like a nun for the rest of her life.
Yet, all money and prayers served for nothing. And all regrets could not make good this drama. Maria closed her eyes in a Sunday morning as the shining sun made her face look like an angel.
Tears in her eyes
Lucia regrets the days
when she gave no love.
This is my entry for: Līgo Haībun Challenge
What is love? Did you ever ask yourself this question?
Many people imagine that love is an epic thing. Yes, it’s the only feeling larger than life itself. But also it’s a simple natural thing hidden in the small gestures shared every day, in the care, in the simple thoughts, in the time selflessly given to the other one without thinking of us, our work or career or needs. Time is something that we will never get back, it’s life out of our own life.
Love is in the way we make the other one feel, not a second best feeling, no concession made, no favour that should be returned. It’s the whole heart or nothing. The loved one cannot be “another”, but can only be “the one”.
So what is love after all? The trust , the forgiveness, the patience we give? Does it rely on words? But words can lie. It should rely on facts, on actions, on the level of involvement.
Don’t dream about love, make it exist and make it real. Don’t wait for anniversaries and valentines and prom nights and New Year’s Eve… There’s no need for too many words. So don’t talk about love, just prove it, simply give it. Show it.
Show me, don’t tell me
Love is the quiet flower
Blooming in our heart.
This is my entry for The Līgo Haībun Challenge
Yesterday. The sound of the slamming door still resonates in his ears, again and again. He feels so very empty,even though Fang is there, warm, by his side. Good old buddy that never left him alone, from his college years always by his side. Fang loves him, only Fang loves him, Fang who never left him. Not even when she could not stand the poor dog and sent him out of the house every night. She never liked Fang, but Fang was right, he could not stand her, he is the only one that saw her real face.
Now all is history, separation is a fact, yesterday is gone. She left, slamming the door and taking all his joy and dreams. Here he is, broken, left with the memory of her beautiful face laughing while he held her, when they were happy, when they believed it will last forever…
He misses her kiss, her presence, he still feels her presence floating in the air around him like a perfume… His dying soul is melting , liquid like the tears streaming on his eyes. Fang licks his wet cheeks and sits still by his side as he contemplates the dawn and all the emptiness in it…
…the light from the sky
falling like a gray paint over
his eyes and his soul…
This is my entry for The Līgo Haībun Challenge