Butterfly

I saw you last night in my dreams. You are the same radiant and beautiful soul that profoundly roams this barren and desolate world. The same woman I held once with in the cold night of Sagada. You possess those fragile hands, those deep penetrating eyes that are subject of my many poems about you. I saw you last night in my dreams and it pains me in such sweet abandon to know that you occupy my mind even the remoteness of my seldom imaginings.

Why is it that I cannot exorcise you and your face from myself? Why is it you keep on coming back like a tired black and white film? Why is that I desire you and your presence even if I know that it will take me to the end of all life even time itself just to be granted with that wish?

And yet I am still here consumed by your memory, burning with your fragrance, sometimes from a distance often without remorse. You haunt me more than restless souls will, lurking and drilling my dismal heart as if searching for things, for eroded memories I have long ago kept deep in my fleeting soul.

I thought it was just a sudden surge of feelings in a very cold and beautiful place. Good conversation, meeting of some sorts. But I was wrong. Now I know the answers. I found in that unfathomable place a special thing, the gift of the union of hearts locked in the sweet air of our breath… even if it is ephemeral, it is true and honest love. The right love at the right place but at the wrong time you said. But what is time compared to this? Love like time when properly defined loses its meaning, its purpose and logic.

Why am I doing this? You’re taken like you always say. Did I come in late? I know you feel the same. Strongly you said but certain things hinder you from letting it soar. Free without the usual boxes, labels and excuses. Then why am I like this? Why am I feeling this?

Hope. Like what I said to you before, hope the perpetual and radical optimist. Hope, the quixotic friend of love lost and wanderers. Hope even in the certainty of failure, of defeat. You asked, what would you do if you know that you will not fail? I countered back with the question, what would I do if I know I will?

I already told you the answer. That’s why I’m doing this. Ready to suffer the consequences like how a moth seeks the burning flame of redemption. I want you. To be away from you is like taking away the air I consume to live.

One thing is for sure… I realized through countless reflections that I really want you, even love you. Love you like how saints and martyrs have shown the way. Love you as if I am running out of air to breathe, of life to live, of time to exist.

Lastly, I admire you not just because of aesthetic and physical reasons but because in you I can share thoroughly my passion, my beliefs, convictions and sadness. I truly admired your sorrow and sadness for a beautiful country ravaged and robbed by its own people. Your sometimes disillusionment to our cause because it genuinely reflects how honestly you care and love our people.

Words are never enough to capture you. But I am writing with utmost sincerity, honesty and unsullied intentions. I write this not in haste, nor to rush you at things. I write this because it must be written and it belongs to you.

sashaninel 2003