graphs of my Universe
Travel light is fun,
With so little to carry.
Prancing deer,
Safe in the forest,
No tiger,
No bear,
Just green and breeze.
Travel full is peace,
With all so prepared.
Walking elephant,
Graceful in the desert,
No hyena,
No lion,
Just sun and breeze.
Letβs travel
With light heart,
Flying eagle,
Free in the high,
No storm,
No lightning,
Just blue and breeze.
Letβs travel
With full heart,
Humming alpaca,
Peaceful in the hill,
No distress,
No agitation,
Just earth and breeze.
β
Your eyes, Beloved
Drown me to a depth of soul
Where you hide nowhere.
β
Another new year with another long weekend. Added holidayβ
β
Thereβs a prancing deer
To tiger forgetting fear.
A striped bodyβs near.
Luck! The dear has magic ears.
It dashes and disappears.
β
It sways flexibly
In stormy days.
It grows calmly
In sunny days.
It roots perennially
In the meadow.
It sings;
It hums;
It mutes;
It sees;
It hears;
It touches;
It tastes;
It smells;
In silence
Perfectly.
It does well.
β
Laughter is the breeze caressing the hair waving to the morning sun.
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A posting landed on my Instagramβs Home, it was Charlie Chaplinβs small details that are meaningful to me who love to laugh but often fail to make jokes. Most of my jokes are garing (crispy-dry, not funny; Bahasa Indonesia slang). π
Salaam.
Any day can be sweet with some setting on the tongue. Avoid chilli.
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Pink roses in a vase welcome seven cold guests, turning them to smiles.
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Silence sits among storm, wonβt sit in a temple. Sheβs been far away happy, leaving two love birds tweeting noisily.
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Some people donβt want happy ending for everyone but themselves and wonβt stop communicating their hostility in any other way even when they know they have won the game. Oh! Perhaps they never know what victory is, they misunderstand it with justification.
Salaamβ¦
Dear, day.
Do you know that I never stop waiting for you?
When my watch ticks a second,
My heart drips a note,
My pulse vibrates softly,
I know I am closer to you.
Dear, day.
Do you know that every part of you blesses me?
When morning breaks,
Noon flares,
Dusk fades to night,
I know the next you is waiting
For me.
Day oh day
Many I canβt understand,
Much I canβt decipher,
Little I can see,
Very few I can give
Yet I still hope
To meet you again.
Dear, day.
How I am blessed with family,
Gifted with friends,
Sufficed with this self,
You are still the one
Sung by this heart.
Sunday
Monday
Tuesday
Wednesday
Thursday
Friday
Saturday
All have been today
And never faded away.
I am blessed, day
With another you
In the best way.
And for you
I am grateful.
β
This life is a library
Keeping all collections,
Reference to public,
Exclusive to a lover,
One lover.
The
Belovedβ
Read,
Beloved
Any scrolls
In this library.
Read,
Lover
The diaries
In the secret dungeon.
Read,
Beloved
With naked eyes, or
With any glasses on the shelves.
Read,
Lover
Through letters and numbers,
Shapes and colours.
Read,
Beloved
This library is open
As long as you are awake.
Read,
Lover
Before you sleep
When Iβll be reading you through.
β
About the photo
Free will? What is that? This breath is what you blow in to me to love you.
β
Realising more and more that her life is free of free will; she needs causes and reasons to do anything she does even for her brain to think about what things to think ofβ there is a bond invisible and invincible.
She surrenders to the bond. π
Happy weekend.
Salaam.
In a bright corner sheβs seen. The sun sends her light reflecting bright life.
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How many tastes can she experience in joy? 5 or 7?
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Realising that the best taste is not any of those 5 or 7; the best taste is only 1: to love. π
Days of love be likeβ¦
Friday, this bright light blinks to the eyes not stopping staring at the heart.
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Dolls dance following the rhythm of the carverβs breath. Standing ovationβ
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Armchair sits in a corner in silence enjoying the breeze. Sereneβ
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Is it lazed or slowed? The day seems long without you around the pink sky.
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Welcomed by a home with greenery to be cooked, she builds a sweet mood.
Thereβs home thatβs missed lingering around the heart. Let it in with joy.
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Reflection kills her night.
The tower dramatically sways,
Dancing with the street light,
Gleaming with the moonbeam.
She grabs a cloth
To wipe her mirror.
Oye, her little heart.
You need a janitor.
β
There is memory shared around a round table at a starry night.
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Towers will mostly collapse of weak foundationβ¦. Or the strongest quake
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She travels light.
She brings a few packed
And you, in a locket
Kept safe with a chain
Worn around the neck
Reminding the traveler
That nothing is left.
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Thereβs fire kindled, prayer sung, fragrance bellowed in ceremony.
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A white lamb on the lap of a dreamer daydreams of her dreaming sweet.
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White foam on turquoise sweeps back to dark blue deeper to where secrets are.
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The wings are flapping sprinkling blessings through the air. Breathe them. Be blissful.
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In Arabic angel is called malaaikatun or malaaikah or simply malaaikat (Ψ§ΩΩΩ ΩΩΩ°ΩΨ¦ΩΩΩΨ©Ω) literally meaning βpower that governsβ. In Islamic tradition the βpower that governsβ are grouped based on what type of assigned power they govern that are many and one of them is βpower to govern protectionβ.
I always believe I am fully protected through the existence of the angels surrounding me although I am not interested to discuss about their form; people say angels have wings, others say they are made from light, some say malaaikah are systemic laws to run the universe, and so on and so forth. It doesnβt matter to me. That they exist and follow the assigned βpower to governβ is enough for me.
Only when we listen, we will hear. We will hear the songs of the angels, the songs of universe, the songs of the heart, the songs of the soul. I prefer my angels to sing jazzy songs in this end of long weekend. π
Listening to heartβ¦. π
Salaam.
Does heaven and earth exist other than in a loverβs smile? Yes. Dream.
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There is always first.
A tree greeting breeze and sky
Comes from minute seed.
β
rike jokanan 
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