for a moment of joy or moments no one pays for, i give myself a ‘jornal’. this makes me rich. try it.

Nothingness: A Reflection

For this epiphany, I wrote myself a check of $800. What do you think?


I struggle through pain and nothingness with bouts of happiness and calmness of mind everyday. Maybe, I, too, suffer from some kind of mental illness I haven’t dared to find out. What’s certain is my constant search for peace that at times seems to end only for the battle to begin again. Here are some whiffs of calm wind that had helped:


“Restless until my heart rests in thee”, thus, St. Augustine simply puts what ails man. All Truth seems poured into these seven words, truths that Jesus lived and died for. He showed us and taught us what these truths are but why did He seem to make peace such an impossibility, indeed?


Why is life impregnable? Why is living a crucible? Jesus had a consistent answer—because to walk with God, to go home to Him in eternity is to shed the world at every single moment with every thought and every act. Otherwise we, who have wakened to this true path but have not really given in or have not learned to will what God wills or to simply break our will and turn it over to Him, will never find rest.


Until we ‘die to ourselves’ and be nothing in this life, as Jesus says again and again, our journey back home will be wrought with pain. “Die to ourselves”, how do we do that? Not to seek comfort or consolation for what we do, and to deny ourselves of that, which makes us happy (a momentary lift), perhaps? Pain is in the nature of this life, Jesus assured us. If He knew of another way to peace and salvation, being Truth Himself, he would have shown it certainly, shown something else other than having been impoverished, derided, betrayed, and crucified by this world in this existence, this finiteness.


No wonder, as St. Teresa of Avila once chided Jesus in all her humaneness, He had so few friends. Maybe, if we acknowledge our nothingness we could be considered among the few.


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March 27, 2009 Posted by | lyrical prose, reflection | , , , , , , , | 1 Comment


snow-clad trees

on spring morning

looking for robins

Because a haiku moment is rare for its purity, I give myself $500 as my ‘jornal’ for this. What do you think?

March 12, 2009 Posted by | poetry, reflection | , , , , , | 2 Comments

Spring snow

To wake up to snow-clad trees

but knobbed not bare-skinned

a streaming not of rain

on frosted glass but of

quiet snow frantic

in dance, winter as yet

reluctant to let

robins be as sparrows

sprint as if free.


To wake up not to

spring but snow-

bearded day delayed

in clockwork, stumbling

onto the breakfast

ledge spooning spring

against winter, buds

retracting in the snow

birds muted, quivering,

hearts like mine

suddenly uncertain.


I give myself $500 as ‘jornal’ for this thought that came as a poem and not as the essay I intended. Do you think my valuing is right?

March 11, 2009 Posted by | poetry, reflection | , , , , | Leave a comment

To read a poem

is not to catch

the words unlatched:


it is to meet

a current against the sweep


against the words

the patterns on the board


the words imprint

that later fade unlike river silt.


To catch a poem

you can’t, unless eyes firm


eyes glued to the vaulted

deep from where had bolted


these words you read as poem

slumbered like death, awaiting a pen.




This is also posted in a slightly different version on For this reflection on poetry, I wrote myself a check of $800. Too much? If so, tell me why.

March 5, 2009 Posted by | poetry, reflection | , , | Leave a comment