What’s romance, my love? Is roses stay in the branch With no disturbance. They’re unpicked until falling Gracefully kissing the earth.
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Yogyakarta is one of the most romantic cities on earth, where life is automatically slowing down and love can be felt sweeter, simpler and longer; my friends said “the most romantic or the cheapest?” i said cheerfully “i love cheap things that make me happy including cheap friends, people with high maintenance cost please go away” 😄
Hello, my sweetheart. Is life still sweet and vibrant? Nes, said twisted tongue Who means yes but mixed with no. Making decision is wow.
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Sweet is banana rice cake for breakfast and lunch. Should dinner be with the same? Please no. But where is thanksgiving if food is wasted? Sometimes good is not always good like this sweet banana rice cake that ends up as a dilemma. 💕
Lesson learnt: the karma of trying a full recipe is eating the same food the whole day without knowing to whom complaint shall be aired 😁
today’s banana rice cake! as sweet as a light heart 😘
A path to a place Is walked through trees and uphills. A meadow is waiting Opening another path To a warm home filled with love.
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My friend sent me three photos of our beloved “simbah” (those senior people who are considered wise or those who have grandchildren) – Javanese). Most people call these simbah “batik maker” because they make batik to earn a living. We both call them “batik artist”. More than that through what we’ve seen and heard about them, we’ve considered they are artists of their life. How they embrace their humble life gracefully and consciously has always amazed both of us. They live like calm river flowing to the sea. They don’t struggle against what others think about or do to them. They live as if there is no hindrance and disturbance in life.
When my friend told me some things about those three honourable ladies, I secretly harvested some lessons. It is very critical reminder for me who is still very much attached to a feeling of (accidentally) underestimated and (slightly) humiliated because of one petty case. These three artists of life have silently told me to let go.
What a loud shot in a quiet weekend!
No apology is needed. All is gradually let go through my own wish and willingness. This is my life and I only want to be the artist of my own life. 💝
Listen, Beloved, Humming angels keep singing Song of union. Ears can’t hear, too low a voice. Heart can, swayed by the wind though.
Root deep, Beloved. The song vibrates in the earth, Making grass and flowers bloom, Brightening up the meadow— Listen, Beloved.
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It takes enormous patience to listen to the silence. Hey! Is it being patient or simply allowing quietness to sit where birds and monkeys are hopping and making noise?
Listening is a skill. A skill needs practices to mastery. Mastery takes time. Time takes breathing, in, out, with awareness.
This song, Beloved, Sky lantern blinking at me To read your message? I don’t read it. I sing it To thank you for being you.
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Some story is just so beautifully bitter that can’t be read, can only be recited as a musical poem — just like your story.
Some love stories must end because of greater reason. I wish you lovers, fiancées, wives, husbands, parents, children, best friends and all others broken hearted happiness. Maybe the greater reason is your own self — yes, must be!
Salaam. 💝
beautiful song to lament a lost lover; and also it is not easy to lose a father or a father to be – may all beings be happy
Wishing, Beloved, Upon a star where dreams sit Waiting to be picked One by one to the bucket Before the steps reach the home—
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Many dreams look so much near. Places to go on earth displayed in Pinterest lengthen the list and be a good escape for mind every weekend before dosing off. Can only wish that the lengthened list lengthens the life, pushing the EOL later and later— 🤗
Some dreams can’t even be described…. You are as near as far away…. 🙃
Happy weekend. Oops long weekend.
next year, next year…. please 🥰 want to stand under those trees and greet the women who carry loads on their heads! beautiful! 💝
Stories, Beloved, Chronological events With no emotion She puts meanings and settings To characters in action.
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I like poems loaded with love even when it is not love stories according to my friends. To me all stories are potential love stories.
I couldn’t find my left green sock and a poem about losing a beloved one was born. My kitchen lamp was blinking before switched off for good, a poem about a lover moving on after struggling reaching out to the beloved. Yet real broken heart helped me develop poems about how a heart shape blinks from white to blue to red to black before fading away.
Everything is love story between a lover and beloved. Of left and right socks. Of dark and light. Of hope and fear. Of head and heart. Of missing you and hating you. Of everything and nothing. Of me and my beloved that constantly changeable among me, you and them.
Mystery? Cheesy? It doesn’t matter. It helps me relax yet focus. ♥️
Life is all romance through these eyes. Wish that they remain with romantic lenses until life shows its true romanticism at the end of the journey—
😚
oh oh oh love you love you love you….. who are you? someone, something or some money? 😑
Orchids’s peekaboo! They breathe, we breathe the same air. They bloom. We do, too. They show colours. We do, too. Theirs are bright. Would ours be, too?
Today, Beloved, Filled with laughter of past times. Bitter was, sweet is— Time doesn’t heal. It turns taste, Look. All is well. All shall pass.
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Rendezvous with my best people, those who are always with ears to listen and to be listened to, with tongue to twist bitterness to wisdom, with foolishness to laugh at what’s not even funny but needing some appreciation.
Some people are amazing with just one reason called trust.
Blessed to have them.
Holiday is getting shorter. Let’s slow the steps and insert more meaningful conversations before it halts.
Blinding, Beloved, Light when too bright. Dimly bright Suits these eyes searching Luminosity and cracks Following path to a home—
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Sometimes light disturbs eyes because its intensity is way too high than what’s expected or needed by the eyes. eyes can only tolerate and work well with enough light. So the more isn’t always the better.
May all beings be happy.
Changi Airport with its lights – this one is a favourite ❣️❣️so much thing to miss for the past 2 years, this garden of giant bright dandelions is one of those – let’s fly home
Intoxicated Without drink, just dream of you. Sensing from afar— From a distance it is you. The true you? A perceived you?
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I learn about fasting gradually, starting from child’s fasting to earn presents then knowing it as shoum then as shiyam. All refer to the same activity but have different level of loaded meanings. In Arabic when word is added with one letter, the type of word changes, the voice changes and the depth or load of meaning also changes. The word صوم (shoum) has three letters, while صيام (shiyam) consists of four letters. Therefore, the word shiyam has a deeper meaning than the word shoum. There are even some circles that distinguish the meaning of the two words.
The word shiyam means to refrain from things that cancel (eating, drinking, sexual intercourse) performed with good intention, while the word shoum means leaving things that cancel fasting or not talking. In the Quran the word shoum can be found when Maryam the mother of Prophet Isa (Jesus) intended to stop eating and talking after the birth of him. While shiyam can be found as an instruction to do fasting in Ramadhan month.
I wish my fasting flies to the place where even Angel Gabriel (Jibril) can’t go in then my fasting goes back bringing me better understanding of how a human being should serve the living.
rike jokanan 
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