Thursday, March 25, 2010

A collector

Down the lonely road
My feet move on non-stop,
Heading towards the unknown
I rummaged my soul for things never known.
The rising sun yonder
Golden paint the horizon,
My eyes I leave wide open
Admiring the wonders of creation.

As my walk take me farther from the source
I remembered of my friends,
They are collectors of memorable items
From coins, stamps, antics and old photos torn by time.
Their pride and satisfaction
Shut their soul without expansion,
They know of nothing about many aspects of life
But, everything about the collectors’ items.

Life is funny; I chuckled as my walk takes me further
Many people come, and many people go
Some disappears unto nothingness
While some oblivious of nothingness.
Random musing I would call my mind’s play
For it tells me that I am a collector too,
Unbeknown to me suddenly the mind says so
And I begin to wonder if the say is true.

As my shadow grow lengthily at the back
I know that the sun is rising fast,
The heat sends perspiration all over
Soaking me in a bath unwanted.
I begin to ponder again, am I really a collector?
And my conscience always speaks better,
It says in affirmation without a second delay
                That my collection is of subtle memories
                of cloudy weather and sunny days.

My wandering goes on with much pondering
                What are those things subtle memories
                of cloudy weather and sunny days?
Again, my conscience rose from the depth of somewhere
Collections of memories good and bad I have gathered.
I realized against my conscience I cannot lie
Those are things that I carry without a second thought
A collection of memorable and painful memories.

                Yes, I am a collector of subtle memories
                of cloudy weather and sunny days.

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