Posted in 2017, Adventure, Comfort, Dedication, Dreams, Feelings, Life, Love, Poem, Truth, Walls

Shoreline

Someday, same place, different company, different feels

I’ve never been born an adventurer.

Mom was scared of traversing through rocky plains and uncharted territories.

It’s maybe because that she never dared to step out from her comfort zone when she was young until now.

If I paint my mother.

She would have been the great land.

Unmoving, rigid, rooted

Always in the comfort of going back to what’s safe – earth.

If you met my dad, you’d know how I became an adventurer.

Dad was the captain of MV Life, journeying across great bodies of ocean

It’s maybe because of his career that pump lots of adrenaline in his body.

If I paint my father.

He would have been the great seas.

Moving, wide, punishing.

Always the dare, never the truth.

Always the thrill seeker, never the watcher.

I’m not born an adventurer, I’m not raised as an adventurer.

I’m the balance of both the great land and the great sea,

I’m the space separating the great land and the great seas,

I’m the shoreline ,

The great divide,

I’m the coastline,

The great mark of in-betweens.

I’m the certainty of the meet-up,

Of simply being punished by the great waves and being calmed by the great land.

I’m the uncertainty of the tides,

Strong

Weak

Sometimes angry

Sometimes soothing

You cannot paint me but most people try.

They try to use up all the sand

They try to use up all the colors of the rainbow

Trying to paint someone who can’t be painted

Not me.

Not the boundary

The bounds of the middle

The piece that’s still a question

Does the shoreline know who she wants to become?

Will she be the great land or the great seas?

Will she be both?

No

For I know the shoreline is the shoreline

Never the great land

Never the great seas

But always the beauty of the in-betweens

Always the meeting place

Never the place

Always the bridge

Never the lovers

Always the center

But never the world

Always there

But unknown

Unmoving

Rigid

Safe

Sometimes she want to be punishing, moving and wide

And she did, once

Or was it twice? Thrice?

No, it was until the fourth

And she did realize

That the great land is like her mind

Safe

Rationale

The other side

But her heart, oh her heart,

Was always the adventurer

Moving

In the right and wrong places

Loving men who cannot grasp the kind of love she tried to give

Loving men who always will be her almost

Punishing

In ways she cannot imagine having to cry

In ways she cannot imagine how to laugh

In ways she cannot imagine she has,

The power to survive rough waves

The power to continue despite the calm deep

Her heart will always be the sail

Never the sailor

The wind loved the sail

But the sailor always holds back

Her heart never holds back

On her choices

On her fears

And maybe one day I’ll realize

I’ll realize that I’ll be sailing right,

Right to where the wind will take me

Not safe

But safer

Uncertain yet certain

But I know I’d be sailing it right to you

I’d be not just the center, but the world

I’d be land and the sea

Of the great beyond

Of blue and green

Of the universe that’s in me

I’d be sailing right,

Right to where I’d not just be a meeting place of star-crossed lovers,

But I’d be the place

The place where someone will be safe

The place where someone will find a home

Where I will be home.

Where I will be.

I will be.

I will be enough.

I will be eternity.

I will be loved.

Till then, I’d continue to be shoreline

Existing

Resisting

At the moment, persisting to find a place where I will stay and finally call it a day.

Where someone will stay and finally call me home.

Finally, I will be the truth and not the dare.

Finally.

Where finally I can say, je t’aime mon amour, bienvenue à la maison.

 

Valete!


In dedication to my parents, thank you for being safe yet punishing, rigid yet moving. I owe what I am today because of you. Your daughter will be soaring and she will eventually find home. 

Advertisements

Author:

A dose of failures, a couple of heartaches, a dozen of everlasting memories, a hundred of survival diaries, a thousand of beautiful moments worth capturing all in one undying international art — writing. This feature every bits and pieces of my life (not that vain though). Whether it’s to wear a dress or wear jammies, to write a sentence or to write a poem, to challenge negative beliefs or to debate my beliefs, to momentarily travel or to stay at home, to crave spicy foods or to just eat plain vanilla ice cream. Whatever spectrum I am in, I think I have found my place in this wonderful world. Valete!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s