poeticnook

Moved to a new house last Sunday, this one sat on top of a hill. Last night i counted 1,042 steps before i found my hand on the door knob of my room. My legs were aching and i said - this is the price of peace and solitude, a burning sensation on the sole of my feet. not that much of a price really, unless i accidentally slip and get a bump on my head - now that would mean i paid a tip.


I've always thought that if I walked really really slow, I'd be going against time and it would stop for a while - enough for me to make still frames of the moment in my mind. I tried this yesterday as I climbed the hill. there was about half a dozen other people of different shapes and sizes who seemed to have thought of the same idea as I did. we all got off from the jeepney at the foot of the small mountain and proceeded to climb up in slow motion.

There were two teachers walking and they talked of their children's future.. there were junior high school students discussing their plans for college, there was an old man carrying a plastic bag of vegetables, there was a white dog lazily licking his paws,..

And there I was, watching the first quarter moon watch me back.