As I go back to Manila
* A republished journal from Summoning The Winds Blogspot
I am sitting here...waiting to board the aircraft that will take me back to a place that spells out a lonesome walk through life in his absence. And as I fixate my gaze beyond the glass walls of the airport lounge, I can see things of beauty that will remain unaltered only when left alone in my mind.
Burning leaves sculpt a smoky mist over the endless rice field of ripened gold. And the distant mountains provide a silhouetted backdrop for a lonely tree that crests a nearing bounty.
The sky wears a blissful orange monochrome that suggests the long day’s approaching end. And the flickering gloom from a farmer's oil lamp engages in a futile battle with the grayscaled shadows of the approaching dusk.
Like me, *Coldplay is in Trouble - he spun a web and is now tangled up with it.
Unto the horizon, stretches the vast runway, riddled with lamps in basic colors of red, yellow and blue. The instructive glares of the lamps construct a discotheque of rain-driven fireflies before my eyes.
... My mind spins into a wormhole of yesterday and my soul is now traveling far into its virtual realm clattered with his ancient promises... My soul is gasping for air!
A heatwave emerges out of the propellers as the northern wind's innocuous chill, interferes with the mechanism.
The mirage gives birth to a distorted image of him which I will painfully harbor from Gate 4 to the arrival area in Manila (Doors... Gates... Airports, Goodbyes - Such lonely things to think of!)
Such things of beauty I see, I cannot come to grasp!
I cannot come near any nor see just a portion... for such beauty is born only, where everything is seen from a distance like mine.
*Coldplay - an English band vocalist/pianist Chris Martin, guitarist Jonny Buckland, bassist Guy Berryman and drummer Will Champion.
I am sitting here...waiting to board the aircraft that will take me back to a place that spells out a lonesome walk through life in his absence. And as I fixate my gaze beyond the glass walls of the airport lounge, I can see things of beauty that will remain unaltered only when left alone in my mind.
Burning leaves sculpt a smoky mist over the endless rice field of ripened gold. And the distant mountains provide a silhouetted backdrop for a lonely tree that crests a nearing bounty.
The sky wears a blissful orange monochrome that suggests the long day’s approaching end. And the flickering gloom from a farmer's oil lamp engages in a futile battle with the grayscaled shadows of the approaching dusk.
Like me, *Coldplay is in Trouble - he spun a web and is now tangled up with it.
Unto the horizon, stretches the vast runway, riddled with lamps in basic colors of red, yellow and blue. The instructive glares of the lamps construct a discotheque of rain-driven fireflies before my eyes.
... My mind spins into a wormhole of yesterday and my soul is now traveling far into its virtual realm clattered with his ancient promises... My soul is gasping for air!
A heatwave emerges out of the propellers as the northern wind's innocuous chill, interferes with the mechanism.
The mirage gives birth to a distorted image of him which I will painfully harbor from Gate 4 to the arrival area in Manila (Doors... Gates... Airports, Goodbyes - Such lonely things to think of!)
Such things of beauty I see, I cannot come to grasp!
I cannot come near any nor see just a portion... for such beauty is born only, where everything is seen from a distance like mine.
*Coldplay - an English band vocalist/pianist Chris Martin, guitarist Jonny Buckland, bassist Guy Berryman and drummer Will Champion.
Trouble by: Coldplay
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