Only Lyrically

Month: November, 2012

one line

there’s a place in me that’s eternally free. unheard of, it’s where the peon sings

say grace, jeniper

Christmas has come to my neighborhood. The houses in front have put up decorations, and very soon, the choir which rehearses behind my apartment will be singing carols.

I’ve always loved Christmas mainly because I love hearing choirs singing carols, I go to church mostly for that, not really for the gospel, sorry. But I love hearing those advent readings about how the mothers of John the Baptist and Samson and the like got pregnant despite their old age or being barren.

If ever I get to have a daughter, I’ll name her Caroline. I got a feeling I might have lots of boys so I got a whole roster of names lined up for that, no worries at all. Actually, I’d be very much willing to leave the naming to the father.

Will have to visit the folks this Christmas, to give some cheer to the old man who’s been ill. I plan to ransack Nanay’s refrigerator for all the goodies I could take back home. Apologies to the kids, Lola Jeniper will not be giving away dinero because she’s saving up for a guitar. I could make them alcoholic chocolate though

Of course Christmas is best spent with family, but my Christmases alone for the past few years have been good. Little revelations.

And the year end is usually my time of inventory of verses. This year is the leanest.

When I still worked for the courthouse, I would use up all my vacation credits in December so I can catch up and write. There were times when I’d have half of December just for the verses, and I’d stay all day in the public library in Instruccion to write.

It’s harder now. Sometimes it feels better to just sleep. And sleep these days can only get sweeter with the Christmas breeze. It’s mildly blowing through my windows right now, as I write.

I remember being a kid and waking up very early for those simbang gabi masses, and how I’d walk alone along Mariano Cuenco, aglow with the yellow light from the street lamps, foggy with the cold air. I remember having total faith that whatever I asked will be given.

It’s different now. I forget asking for particulars for myself. Now my petitions are just along the lines of “my Lord, please stay with me.”

So maybe I ought to be a bit more particular again, like I was when I was a kid. Maybe I’ve got to be seeing things again, in full color and details, and in full faith, for them to materialize.

And I’ve got to be in joyful anticipation, as what the Christmas readings say. After all, it’s been written too, one must have the feeling of gratitude, as if one has already received, to receive.

A dark and deeply sonorous guitar so I can play carols and other songs here in my home. A few days off, and away. Long, undisturbed hours of sleep. Hot chocolate and warm bread and cheese on the eve of the 24th. Go with my kind neighbors to Quezon, and be on the beach on the first day of 2013. Him. Poems.

A life of love.

Thank You.