sungkan

saya tidak suka mengunci hujan di luar jendela. rasanya seperti menelantarkan kawan yang baik hati.

teras rumah

kau mulai mencintai kembali kegelapan halaman rumahmu, mencium aroma malam dan daun menguap dari keramik terasmu. dengan lagu yang kau senandungkan di pikiranmu, engkau perlahan berdansa dengan pagar rumahmu, berjingkat di atas bayangannya. kau tidak ingat menghitung berapa langkah dan satuan waktu yang berlalu semenjak kau berada di situ.

perjalanan pulang

lampu kota mengabur. di antara banyak langkah kaki dan suara aku pelan-pelan membisikkan namamu ke udara, mengucapkannya tanpa bersuara, melepaskannya dengan hati-hati, berharap ia sampai dengan selamat ke atmosfer dimana semua berbaur antara mimpi dan harapan dan doa dan kenyataan.

dan aku mengucap syukur dengan sunyi: mengetahui bahwa engkau ada di dunia ini memberikan kelegaan yang tidak bisa aku jelaskan.

there was magic in the air

i'm having one of the most magical nights in my life.

because the electricity's off.

i'm lying here watching the room space. i never realized the light of the moon coming through my window is that beautiful in its own simplicity. seabear's cat piano seeps in my ears. i know i'm bored and my blood's pretty thin but some nights i swear there was magic in the air. i let the words infiltrate; magic, that's what i feel now. without the veil from the city lights, the sky is so naked, so yellow i can imagine the invisible stars. the air is still. the trees too they seem stunned by the atmosphere: the branches and leaves are all at a halt. the crickets finally aren't only entertaining themselves. i look at the shadows on the wall, tranquility. these all feel sort of sad, but beautiful. so beautiful that it overwhelms me i want to cry. if only i could dilute this moment and put it into a wooden bottle and pour it down when i need it.

i know people at some point try searching their cores. pilgrimage. grandiose massive worship. travelling the world. living as a hermit. playing their music...
i'm lucky here in my own room, in the heat of december nights, in between the tiny segments of time, i feel the connection with the whole universe:
i find my soul.

journal, december.

listen seabear's cat's piano