The Wings

The wings, Beloved,
Grown from fluid that fasts and sleeps;
Perching butterfly—

I call it journey, you call it metamorphosis. I call it idea, you call it egg. I call it maturity, you call it a born chrysalis. I call it manifestation, you call it developed butterfly. I call it love, you call it commitment. I call it this, you call it that. We look one thing from different points of view and describe it with different disciplines. In fact we are talking about the same thing.


You see a butterfly perching on my shoulder, I see a messenger bringing me a love letter from my beloved telling me:

“Hello, my love. Relax. You are safe. I’m here with you.”
RC Gorman’s


Empty jar with air,
Looks empty? I breathe the air,
Beloved. Empty?


Empty isn’t always as it is, depending on which eyes one is using to scrutinise the reality. Reality? Debatable indeed. What is seen isn’t fact yet; it is still a perspective.

So, don’t worry too much about how they perceive others. It’s not a fact, it’s a bunch of perspectives that can change based on where they stand.

Being empty is often needed. Imagine getting constipated for one week. The only thing to dream of will be emptying stomach.


empty jar, tightly closed, vacuum chamber

Picture from Amazon

Beautiful Scars

Bruised and scarred she is;
A stained-glass window to see
Both sides of her world.


22:22 / Sunday – June 6, 2021

I thought all of those were wounds and warts until observing carefully. I’ve been living with a beautiful stained-glass window which puts colours and gives unique perspectives when seeing inside and outside. As long as it doesn’t derail from being a human being, I think I’m blessed.

Why shouldn’t I be thankful and happy? 💞


May all beings be happy.


Angle of Angels – tanka

Looking through clear glass,
Sweeping fog away of eyes —
Angle of Angels.
Whether or not she’s sleeping
Or awake is Angels’ click.

Baloi – August 6, 2019 / 06:36 (Western Indonesia Time)

Below is a painting by Wilhem von Kaulbach, “The Guardian Angel”.