Mes amis sont la lumière des étoiles

Walking back from my car last night, I happened to glance up at the night sky above me. A simple act of tilting my head, but suddenly, I found myself overhwelmed with a sense of nostalgia. There was a time when I turned to the stars nightly; relying on their presence for a sense of tranquilty. They were my companions through the restless nights- familar constellations painted upon the deep blue canvas like photos of old friends in an album. No matter how sparse they may seem, the act of conencting them always bring me a sense of serenity. If I can connect the far stretching dots spread across the heavens, then so may I be united with loved ones scattered across the earth like dandelion seeds in the wind. 

Yet, I must admit, it has been a while since I last gazed up and converse with the stars. Similarly, it felt like it has been too long since I reach out and be in the company of my friends. I know I have dove into a new project like a determined captain sailing out to sea. Yet, given all my charts and navigation skills, I realize it is towards the stars I must look for direction. I need the wisdom of the stars, and the counsel of my scattered friends. I need to connect with them, for only then will I realize my place, and know where I should be heading next. My stars and my friends are one. Heaven and earth are not so far apart after all.

My Heart and I

I conversed at length with my heart this night, it reminded me of things I have forgotten, and revealed to me things I have neglected. It tells me of its yearning for home, a sense of belonging. It showed me images of my past, of familiar faces that I sorely missed seeing from day to day. It recalled the many fond memories that I have, experiences that it had stored to keep me warm time and time again. It spoke of the sorrows that it had felt, and of the fear that constantly hounds it. Yet, it regale the many moments of elation, when I with it soared to new heights and conquered new horizons through sheer hope alone. My heart begs me to remember that it does not beat for beating sake, but that it pumps because it is the well of my being brimming with passion. It is not just a lump, but very much alive, and perhaps more alive than I gave it credit at times. My mind, it may know of things, but in the end it is my heart, and my heart alone that sensed the way intuitively and truly. My heart asks me to trust it, to get to know it, only then will I learn it will not betray me. It is fickle at times, but only because it knows not what I desire of it. My heart and I, we need to get better acquainted, for while it is part of me and I it, we are still separate entities at times, and perhaps that is not wise.

Hi, I am Linus

I remember a simpler time, a time when the four corners of my blue blanket constitutes all the security I need from the uncertain world around me. At night when monsters lurk in the shadows, I only need to hide under the covers and I know I am protected. When I am afraid and in need of courage, I only need to drape on my blanket, and suddenly I morphed into a caped superhero with unlimited might. Of course, those moments don't often end in glorious victories as the "cape" never quite became the parachute I imagine it to be, nor does it ever serve as a safety net. But that blanket was the world to me, mainly because it was a constant source of comfort- embracing me, empowering me. It was my tent where I can camp out and read all night if I want. It was my magic carpet when my mind needed a conduit to a world unexplored. It became a mystical maze for my fingers, its threads woven into labyrinths of patterns that if I close my eyes I may just get lost in. Such a wonderful blanket it was, all blue and soft, it was my unchanging sky on a cloudy day, beneath it I am draped in a cotton field under clear skies.