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| ..fire in my garden..trash and leaves..pic taken thro my bedroom window.. |
.. as adults we play with different kind of fires..mainly fires of the heart..and being burnt just the same..with similar pain, maybe worse...and most times, we have no one to blame but ourselves....for we are arsonist ourselves, arsonist of the heart...
..I supposed in every one's life there comes a time when someone sets one's heart on fire...indubitably and furiously...releasing enough heat to cloud one's judgement and rationale..but love is like that...it may last..it may not..no matter how tenacious the fire...
..looking at the fire burning outside through my bedroom window made me realised that I have had my fires and burns...the first have embered and its dying glow but a distant memory...but there is another kind of fire now burning.,.steadily and surreptitiously..I can feel the heat..and how helpless I am....O Lord, how I yearned for Your Mercy and Bounty..
12 comments:
Pakmat,
As always you put it here in such a beautiful way only to be reminded later of the eternal life hereafter.
At times, I forget that some wind had snuffed the candle I once burned yet I still yearn for it, but what I fail to see is, it is the same wind that kindles fire...and it fans a greater love...
*pardon me pakmat for being a bit melancholic!
..salam heta..:)..allow me a smile..a lil bit of melancholia is good..but we all have our fires..those fires lit our lives..cheers..and take care..
pak mat , lagi satu? :)
..no, jun..I am done with lighting lil bush fires that fizzled and died out after a cackle and a spark..and I dont think I can anymore..:)..but thanks for the compliment...cheers..
Pakmat, how I wished I could burn things like that and enjoy seeing the fire, smell the fire and the smoke but it is banned in the city. You are lucky to be able to do that now.
Take care.
..salam pak idrus...by any accounts, Bachok is rural, kampongish..and it is the norm in kampongs to sabit and rake those leaves and under growth and pile them in a pile..and set on fire..the smell of burning leaves and decaying wood is something else altogether..something city slickers of kg origin missed..
Abe Mat,
Api....kecil menjadi kawan, besar menjadi lawan. purrr...meow!
I love your last line...
Salam Pakmat, I remember my fascination with fires too, especially rolling up cardboard carton where it turned embers but never goes off, all u need to do is give it a shake & a twirl & the fire will start up again...hehehe..and no I cannot for the life of me remember ever wanting to run naked in the rain....hahaha
..you said it, mydearcat, you said it..and dont I know it..hehehe..
I knew there's something wrong with your childhood, tommy..never had the urge to run naked in the rain as a kid?..sheesh..you r incomplete..try it as an adult..and recall those time when you were a kid...
salam wan..I dont know wan.,.maybe..
Assalamu`alaikum PakMat,
Twain said this: (not sure if the last part should be taken literally)
“Sing like no one's listening, love like you've never been hurt, dance like nobody's watching, and live like its heaven on earth.”
dear anne..it is heaven on earth..and we all have our haven in some part of it somewhere..:)
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