why do i write?

i write because it makes me a better person...
i write because i am able to reach out the unreachable...
i write because i am able to speak out the unspeakable...
i write because i am able to express my inner self...
i write because i love to...
i write because i feel it...
i write because this is my life...

when you're down, reach out to HIM

There are really moments that you need to pause for a break and check yourself…are you still there? Am I still here? Sometimes we forget that we are here and yet out of this world…it is only when we are hurt and bleeding that we realize we need someone to turn to…talk to…someone whom to confide our hearts and thoughts…but what’s more painful is the feeling that you have no one to turn to…to lean on when the world shakes you to your ground…then you pause and look back, and notice yourself groping alone in the dark…then you look behind, there’s no one…you look around, there is no one…has everybody deserted you? You wonder. You cry…You look down and look at yourself with so much pity then hate yourself…but don’t! You haven’t probably looked everywhere yet…look up. He’s there looking down on you lovingly with arms wide open…reach out to him.

challenged...

I had a good laugh today during the seminar on teaching literature. The speaker, in the person of Dr. Lucero of UP Diliman, was so witty and so passionate when she not only lectured on but demonstrated as well, the different ways how we can instill love for our very own rich literary heritage to our students…I laughed and choked at the reality of her statement. It’s true, we should love and appreciate our own epics and see through it our rich culture way back pre-Spanish period and which culture is carried on even up to this time…it was certainly, an eye opener and a big challenge for all of us. I am proud to be a Filipino.

Definition

Reflection

http://www.poetry.com/Publications/search.asp?First=dorcas&Last=bandiala&submit.x=44&submit.y=11

Camp Kibaritan

my hometown

What a sight it is, The lush green cornfield
The indescribable solitude, The avocado tree leaves
Sing boastfully of its sweet malagkit fruit
The native chickens chirping,Scratching, searching for food
Stare at me blankly as if I was an old peer
the carabao's poo, a blissful scent mesmerizes me
the fresh breeze brings me back to my mother's womb
The cold Maridugao River, Lying between two regions
Joyfully inviting everyone, to savor its coolness
and unfold its mysteriousness, the streams calling for reunion
The huge trees, the battle green forest
Wild boars, monkeys and birds therein
Rest safely and secure, engulfed in their mystical power
Tempting and enchanting the innocent
The cerulean sky is within reach
the white clouds soft as cotton
Touch my skin, kiss me, envelope my being
the smiling sun winks its eyes
telling my nerves to take delight in its scorching heat
Seeing you ever the same, So calm, so green, so serene
I couldn't hold the tears to trickle
Unexplainable mirth, awakened within

Home sweet home, here I am!

I NEED HIS HANDS

I remember the last precious moments our mother spent with us before she went to that paradisiacal place. Even just the thought of it gives me so much pain. This pain isn’t that of loss for I never have lost her, not even in a single second but this is of my longing for her. She’s right there right now and she’s happy. That’s enough to relive me from crying but honestly tears are now blocking my sight keeping me out of keys. My vision is so blurry. My heart is eager to let loose of that something which keeps me wobbly for there are so many tears in my heart that never reach my eyes. My best friend Theresa used to say that line which I never fully understood what she meant way back high school. She probably had been keeping something in her heart that she just couldn’t let go of which cause here heart to cry but which tears do not reach her eyes. Now, I came to understand that. So this is how it feels. These are actually tears of longings, of loneliness, of nostalgia, of so much yearning for our dearest mother. Right, the tears have blurred my vision but not even ocean of tears can ever wash the memories of her out from us. She hasn’t left us. She just went ahead. We may not see her now in this muddled world but we see her often in our hearts. She lives here always as she owns this special place in our hearts. One thing we are so proud her is the legacy she left in us and that will forever stay, the legacy of faith, love and contentment. She had a happy spirit, an optimistic countenance, a beautiful outlook in life, a hopeful life, an extraordinary person she was!

It has been seven years. 7 fruitful years. That was a long time ago. She went to heaven on October 11, 2001 at 11 in the evening. It was the most hurtful experience we ever had experienced in the family but on the one hand, a triumphant bliss. She died a peaceful and happy death just as she wanted and prayed for. She was all ready to meet her CREATOR. I know and we felt it that her arrival to heaven had really caused great jubilation and celebration. I could hear the angels singing in joyful jubilation, I could hear the blowing of the trumpets of the heaven’s gate guards welcoming her...I could see her walking on the heaven’s golden floor. She was holding hand and in hand with her Savior, as He showed her the entire Kingdom she had long been dreaming of. I could see her beautiful smiles as tears rolled down her cheeks in awe to that glorious rendezvous with HIM…I could see her meeting other people she knows way back her stay here who have already gone ahead of her…I could feel the unexplainable joy, the eternal bliss. I could just imagine (But I know my imagination is quite limited) the magnificent sight, the splendid views which were all but a vision she kept praying about…then in a flick of a finger, she took hold of that promise, the heaven’s gate opened and welcomed her home.

That same hand that comforted her when she cried to him during the times when our father got sick held her hands. That same hand that prayed with her for her children and her husband, held her to see the glorious scenery. That same hand which comforted her in times of her distress and adversities held her hand and showed her the way to heaven.

I want the same hand to touch me right now. I want the same hand to heal my broken heart and wounded spirit. I want the same hand to lead me to life eternity. I want the same hand to guide me to where my mother is right now. I want the same hand to tap on my shoulders and tell me that everything is going to be alright. I need HIS HANDS.