Final Moment

A flower felt very fabulous one whole night, and so carried along by great tides, high, so higher and so low.

It lived in a long dream; long but with an ultimate end which was not known when it would be.

Then it ended regretfully, left behind imprinted memory of struggling separation of the flower from the plant; a difficult and torturing process.

Wind blew, the flower flew from sight, and diminished.

My mom has passed away peacefully last Sunday morning.

Pictographic Snoring

A spider's snoring and only a spider's snoring is pictographic.

Zzz...

A little mushroom, as has always been taught, thinks the other way round: there's a will there is a  way. It puffs out its cheeks repeatedly and breathes so forcefully that it turns all purple.

Yet nothing happens, but it never knows, and I shall not tell.

Its dream only comes true in a dream.

New Energy

They got married and that happened secretly while I was busy taking care of my mom, and so was the dating; did they date under the moonlight or in warm summer days? Candlelight dinners or spicy lunches?

I only knew then when their house was built on my Bougainvillea plant. Inside it I spotted two new babies who made little noise and with eyes closed.

They did not have trust in me. They kept refusing me in a high tone.

They did not understand that I only wanted to take some pictures of the newborns. Those are signs of new energy.