Life’s Facade

Hidden behind chosen front,

Veneer created for survival,

Thick, taut, cracked, hard, transparent, rough or shiny.

 

Glazing over and clouding,

Perfect vision,

Dimming and diminishing, Authentic Life.

 

Which face is real,

And which untrue,

Have we forgotten?

 

We need our fronts, tops, backs, and bottoms;

Places we live, work, eat, pray and play…

The concealing stories we tell.

 

A state of being maybe only death,

Could strip away?

Peeling back false nature…

 

Revealing,

Pure Love’s,

True Identity.

 

-Gilda Patricia

Lost and Found

Tough life may teach one,

Truth of God’s love,

And identity as, 

Most Beloved Child.”

 

First complaining, blaming,

Fighting, crying out,

“Who would want this life,

Of strife?”

 

At moments even,

Wishing for God to…

                                  take

                                       it

                                          all

                                            back.

 

Could prayers,

Contain such sincerity and fervor,

If not having once,

                                 fallen

                                    desperately

                                         to

                                           knees…

World torn apart?

 

Maybe pain keeps this train,

                                       on

                                           it’s

                                              track.

By calling out to God,

Faith muscles newly oiled,

And limber…

                                  safe

                                       in

                                        Godspeed.

Losing self means finding God,

L                 S                                   

            O                   T                   and… -_-_-_-_-_-_ Found.

 

-Gilda Patricia

Gigil for Life

(LETTER TO MY YOUNGER SELF):

Had I known

That only by tomorrow

You’d be grown…

I would have went with

My first urge and instinct

To squeeze all the juice and gusto

Out of life

Before am gone.

 

Had I known,

I would have played

The part of bystander less

Observing less

Instead diving more 

Into the deep end

Of the ocean 

With reckless abandon…

 

Not even stopping to 

Worry if my hair got wet.

 

Had I known,

I would have ignored

My second more acceptable

Rational impulse 

To pay close and careful attention

To what other people think.

 

Thankfully, I’m not

10 feet under yet!

 

-Gilda Patricia

 

Day 29- Word of the day-gigil (n.) Uncontrollable urge to pinch or squeeze someone

Word High July-30 Beautiful Filipino Words

challenge set by A Reading Writer’s blog, and Doodles and Scribbles

https://areadingwritr.wordpress.com/2016/06/30/word-high-july-welcome/

 

Muni-Muni (I Ponder)

Does the sun muni-muni,

of moonbeams, whose cool rays,

reflect the starry night?

 

Do night skies,

no longer star struck,

muni-muni over the majesty of day,

where children laugh and play?

 

What of stifling desert breezes,

and frigid arctic air,

do they dream of switching places,

a momentary relief?

 

Does a bee ever wish,

 a flower to be, or a flower a bee;

a pollination and germination,

reversal?

 

 

I wonder how it’d be,

with no question left unanswered,

life’s mysteries unraveled?

 

 No words to write,

no dreams to dream,

or songs to sing…

 

A world without muni-muni,

at least for me.

 

-Gilda Patricia

 

Written for Word High July- 30 Beautiful Filipino Words.

Day 7- muni-muni (v.) To think deeply, to ponder.

Challenge set by A Reading Writer’s Blog, and Doodles and Scribbles.

https://areadingwritr.wordpress.com/2016/06/30/word-high-july-welcome/

Seasons of Love and Hope

God’s love cannot be held in any container,

But permeates out to touch us,

Pouring forth like sunlight.

 

Maybe we can’t always feel the warmth,

Directly on our skin,

As we do in the summer of our lives;

 

As the Summer sun warms us,

Like no other season.

 

There’s a million sad stories in the world,

Every one, to me, a thing of beauty;

Stories of our fragility and our humanity.

 

Somehow the Springing forth of new life,

Or new love, like the first bud from a Winter‘s thaw,

Will  always capture my hope and imagination.

 

The most beautiful gift a human does possess,

Is the power within, to keep loving,

  In spite of a Fall.

 

These are the stories I never grow weary,

 Of seeing or reading or hearing,

  Like an Adele love song.

Gilda Patricia

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/summer

 

 

Conscious Gratitude

Today, I stop, take notice,

And thank God for,

The gift of being AWARE.

 

Simply being conscious…

Of my hands that can write, touch, carry and hold,

My eyes that can see beauty, read, and connect with others,

My nose that allows me to breath in life…

Almost imperceptibly,

My feet which take me painlessly where I need to be,

My ears that hear beautiful music to brighten my day,

My voice which can speak my truth, express love, and pray…

For more gratitude.

 

So, whenever I’m fearful, frustrated, sad, or angry,

I choose gratitude, 

Life’s natural elixir,

And remedy for much unneeded, unnecessary, unwelcome pain.

 

The abilities I have are gifts,

Not a given.

Today, I will be consciously grateful,

Especially so, for the one most precious gift,

Life.

 

-Gilda Patricia