Poem: In step with you

He walks
She walks
In silence
They move

She shares
He listens
In contemplation
They ponder

She shouts
He retreats
In frustration
They compromise

He wonders
She reflects
In retrospection
They explore

He talks
She listens
In stillness
They comprehend

By momoko69
29.8.2013

Short Story: By the next wave

Waiting by the bay,
The little boat wondered,
"When will it be my turn? "
So many ships have come,
Yet none were willing to take her on.

As the gusty winds blow,
The little boat bobbed along.
A little wave rolled up,
"What are you waiting for?".
The question seemed poignant.

Swaying from side to side,
The little boat hesitated,
"Am I ready to face the world?"
What about the storms  and tidal waves?
The little wave smiled.

"These answers are in your heart!"
With much courage
The little boat sailed towards the open waters
A little voice echoed from afar
"You will never know if you never try"

By momoko69
28.8.2013

Poem: In the midst of solitude

Walking through the crowds
Her eyes searched for a familiar face
All she could see was her own reflection
Against the glass windows of the train
She wondered if she was a fragment
Of her own imagination
Her heart slowed down
Till her breaths became shallow.
The ticking of a clock
Quickened in hollow echoes
The unbearable loudness
Of her solitude brought
A rude awakening
To her otherwise peaceful soul

Eulogy: When Trouble came

I didn't like him at first glance. Mistrust written all over my face. I was a dog-person. How could I trust this feline that just hissed at me? I just did not like Trouble.

Over the next few years, he proved me wrong. When Ginger died on Christmas Eve, he came and sat with me. When Max died so tragically, he came again and sat with me. Maybe I took awhile to like this streetwise fella, but he was one smart cat.

Who got 4 not so handsome firefighters climbing up the roof of the sheltered walkway? Trouble! Who opened the fridge in the middle of night to steal the anchovies?  Trouble!  Who found a way to escape by jumping out of my window to get to the corridoors? Trouble! Who got his claws stuck under the fridge one day and whined till he was helped? TROUBLE with a capital T.

You grew weaker and weaker in the last 6 months but you never gave up living! You were tenacious right up to your very last breath. I am so proud of you, my dear friend because you are a true warrior. When the life was drained from you, I saw a beautiful heave of relief from your lips.

Thank you for keeping my mom company in the years when I was away in Perth. Thank you for listening to me cry when I lost the two young ones. Thank you for allowing me to walk with you for the last part of your journey. I am honoured to be one of your nurses to clean when you messed up and to be your undertaker to embalm you.

Perhaps right now, you are playing with Max and Ginger... meeting new friends like Lucky and Milkyboy. Wherever you are, I know you and I are linked forever. I live to continue to tell a tale... When Trouble came... he lived an adventurous life and left a legacy of courage and tenacity for life!

Thank you, God for taking my suggestion of bringing Trouble home in time for the great celebration of Singapore's 48th birthday!

Remembering a dear friend...

by momoko69
8.8.2013

Poem: When you grow up...

Child, did you realise
When you were young
Your world was white
A canvas that was filled
With colourful fantasies
Till your eyes got clouded
With the storms that threatened
To colour your world black

Child,  did you know
That when you got older
Everything in your world
Was a grey mass
What was real in there
Became more and more
Unclear and unknown
In the years to come

Child, did you understand
About the responsibilities
That you will carry all your life
That will make you grow up
Too quickly in a few breaths
Before you can say "stop"
You got locked in your state
Of feeling sorry for yourself

Child, did you figure out
By then how many winding roads
You had to walk so
That you could finally find
Your way home to your beloved
Never in your wildest dreams
Would you have imagine
The life that you have lived

By momoko69
21.03.2013

Poem: The lightness of friendship

Perhaps I am wrong
I thought our friendship
Was a river flowing strong
Now it trickles... it trickles!

Perhaps I was deluded
I actually believed my time
Was fruitfully invested
Now it hurts... it hurts!

Maybe I was too naive
You were merely there
To chat about your issues
So enlightened... now enlightened!

Maybe I am jaded
You've sailed out and
To bury the hole you left
So drained... now drained

by momoko69
4.2.2013

When loneliness comes to visit...

A recent chat with my friend awakened me...
To the universality of the loneliness we experienced within.

A yearning to talk to someone.
A hope to connect with a loved one.
A wish to spend time over a simple meal.
A connection without the need for words.
A foreign place, with a newborn and no family around.
A desire to be seen, literally.

We spoke in the midst of a caphony of sounds.
We talked about what makes us feel lonely.
We resonated to each other's stories and experiences.
We shared about our ways of coping.

Though we didn't really solve the root of the problem...
We found strength to carry on another day.
We found catharsis in stating the truth of our situation.
We also acknowledged that it is difficult for anything to change in our current social environment if we don't step out of our comfort zone.

God showed me that I am not alone...
That there are others who share my sentiments despite their marital statuses.
So much is left unsaid so we feel so alone in our individual worlds.

By momoko69
25.15.2012

Timing

Have you ever notice this? Timing is everything. When I get up late, all the items in my schedule get topsy turvy. When I say something to someone without considering the timing, I have to eat humble pie when the person gets offended.

Relationships also need good timing. Some people are not ready for relationships and yet they jump from one unhappy relationship to another. Some wait and wait and they wonder if they miss the timing altogether.

What is it like to wait patiently for someone? Let me try to describe it:

It's like waiting at a platform where the train schedule is always unpredictable. It's sitting there knowing that the train will come eventually but not knowing which is the day and time. So each day, you walk to the station hoping that today is the day that you will be just in time for the train.

Some days, you walk to the station and you realise it's not coming today because its broken down along the way. On those days, you cry a little for the potential of what it means if it had made it to the station where you are.

Some say it is so tiring to wait for a train that is unpredictable. You are all packed and ready to go but you stand there wondering if you would ever make the trip on the train which is supposed to come. All that waiting may be for nothing. And yet, the dreamer in us will always be hopeful.

On some days, the train arrives but it is so full of passengers that you just can't get on it. No matter how many times you beg the train master to let you on the train, he will always say, "Sorry, maybe not this time!". You know it's so close and yet it is just bad timing.

On certain days, the train may have been sitting there for a while and yet you are unsure if you want to get in. The train looks dirty and full of garbage. It needs an overall clean up after being used and abused by the passengers who took the last ride. The timing is just not right. It needs loving care to be restored to its original glory.

So the timing must be right. It means the waiting time is part and parcel of the deal. Many of us are not inclined to wait. For we are afraid to lose all that we have and afraid that we may not get what we want if the train that comes along disappoints us terribly.

So I propose we take this on a different level. Instead of waiting for the train indefinitely, we take the initiative to know what we want in a ride. We identify what is important to us to ensure that we don't waste time on frivolous rides. So that the next time a train pulls into a station, we can see clearly if this is the right timing to hop onto this train and take the ride of our lives.

By momoko69
12.11.2012

Thought of the Day: What defines you does not define me

What defines you?

Is it your house?
Is it your job?
Is it your best of friends?
Is it the way you live?
Is it the philosophy you follow?
Is it the principles you hold?
Is it your car?
Is it your paper qualifications?
Is it your children's school?
Is it your sense of social justice?

What defines me?

Is it my music?
Is it my words?
Is it my work?
Is it my passport?
Is it my passion in the arts?
Is it my prayer life?
Is it my pride?
Is it my precious friendships?
Is it my heartfelt stories?
Is it my love for cats?

What defines you may not necessarily define me...
I want to be defined by my identity in Christ alone!

by momoko69
(30.10.2012)

Short Story: The Heart of the Spirit

Perhaps this is a time in her life that Ariana has never experienced before. She wondered if this is the right thing to do. Her mom had warned her that some things are better left unsaid or undone. But she felt this was important. She could not let it go. Her heart was determined to do it. So as she walked to the church across the street, all she could think about was she was told to be there at the right time.

As she stepped into the serene atmosphere of the church compound, she wondered why she was to be there at 3am in the morning. It was quite different from the usual church atmosphere of cheery laughter and joyful fellowship every Sunday. As she walked around the compound, she sensed that it was not time as yet.

Suddenly she heard a rustle in the nearby bushes, she was startled. "Anyone there?" she asked. No one answered. But she saw a shadow moved across the dark bushes surrounding the church. "I am not afraid of you, you just come out!". The rustling stopped as a voice surfaced from the darkness. "Can you help me?" the voice sounded like a young man.

He stepped out of the bushes. Under the dim streetlights, Ariana could just make out the young man to be of average height, with short tussled hair and boyish looks. He looked pretty tired from the red bloodshot eyes. Ariana was not afraid of this man at all. She felt the Holy Spirit prompting her to talk to him. "Why... are you.... here?" she asked hesistantly.

He sat down on the floor next to her and tried to tie his shoelaces that were undone. "I don't know... I felt led to this place. From afar, I saw the shining blue cross and I just knew I had to come here." She listened as he had a faraway look in his eyes. "I am quite lost... I don't have any money... no job... no friends. I am not sure why I am talking to you. Right now, I don't know if God is listening to me, but I sure hope He is because I am desperate.". Ariana did not know why, but her heart seemed to brim with sadness. She knew that there was something about his story or the way he related it that make her sad. She felt sad not because she pitied him but because God is revealing a part of His heart to her about him. She felt God saying to her that this man had travelled a long way in search of a home. To this day, this man has yet to find a place to call his home.

A soft voice started to sing... the melody was unfamiliar yet haunting. The voice filled the air as the melody floated around the young man. The young man closed his eyes as he felt the music penetrating his heart. He listened quietly and the voice kept going. This was not a song with lyrics, it was a song that came from the heart, a song that spoke to him about his disappointments in life and his inability to move out of the vicious cycle. It was singing to him and it was like God speaking to his heart. The melody went on with incomprehensible words but it seemed more uplifting. It seemed to come to a place of peace, joy and love. The song began to sing about those qualities into his heart and slowly, he felt lighter as if his burdens were lifted up. He felt God's soft gentle embrace circling his body. He felt a release of his own misery and emotions. He felt God saying, "Come home, my son!" At that point in time, he knew who he was  and where his home was.

The melody faded away. Ariana looked up with tears brimming from her eyes. She didn't know how long she had been singing but she knew she could not stop it. She knew it was a strange but lovely moment. She just knew she was born to sing it and yet she did not know how or why.

The young man stood up as he smiled at Ariana. "Thank you, you don't know how much that means to me?" Suddenly it occured to him to ask her for her name, "What's your name, young lady?". "It's Ariana." she said without a hesitation. "Do you know the meaning of your name?" asked the man whose countenance looked much better now under the street light. "It means.. sacred song." And in that moment, she finally understood why her mom named her so and this was what she heard when she was in her mother's womb.

by momoko69
(10.9.2012)

Story: The Parable of The Seed

Once a upon a time,
There was a crack.
In that crack laid a seed.
The seed was left behind
By a sudden gush of wind.

Frozen in its state,
Abandoned to the elements.
For it had been for some time,
The seed was asleep
In its state of existence.

One morning the seed woke up
In a drunken stupor.
It went silent and sullen.
The seed was hurt
Beyond recognition.

"Who am I?"
"How did I end up here?"
Unwilling to seek help
The seed just laid there
Refusing to dream.

Silently the drops fell
From the heavens.
Like silvery tears,
The One who knows
Has heard its cries.

Perhaps it took a long while,
For the seed to understand
Its purpose in this world.
For the One who heals
Has begun its transformation.

On a fine day,
The seed felt different.
It woke up to discover
The One who creates
Had changed its state.

It had grown overnight!
Pushing through the ground,
The seed has gotten out
From its comfortable crack
To the ground above.

Much to its astonishment,
There was no more fear.
The seed could stretch
With its newfound confidence,
Branching out in its glory.

Then the One who loves
Brought the morning light.
The seed felt protected
As the warm rays
Gave it abundant nourishment.

Then the One who breathes
Spoke for the first time,
"Little seed... You have done well!"
"For without your brokenness
There was nothing I can do!".

Then the seed remembered
How it got there,
What broke its spirit.
Seeing its transformation,
It understood the greater plan!

By momoko69
31.7.2012

This is written for you who won't do much now. I am believing that one day, you will be like this seed, allowing your old self to be transformed by the One who knows, heals, creates, loves and breathes. I know He will do it if you let Him! Choose to live, my dearest friend!

Poem: Still

In her world
All things remain
In its own orbit
In His time
Everything has
Its own place

Standing in her space
Not moving at all
Tis a good thing
He watches over her
In silence, in spirit
Time stands still

She prays, she waits
Under the crimson cover
She stands, she counts
Each second turns to hours
Patiently and surely
Her faith reminds her

He breathes, He moves
Under the clear blue sky
He yearns, He speaks
Each word turns into flesh
Gently... so clearly
His life rejuvenates her

by momoko69
(23.7.2012)

This song "Still" by Hillsong United taught me how to wait patiently and trust that God moves at the right timing. This picture I found on the internet reminded me so much about where I am now. So as I hum this song, I wrote this poem. I know now that I move because He moves. No longer will I lament about the what, when, how, why and who in all my circumstances... Whenever I am in doubt, I will look at this picture.

Hide me now
Under Your wings
Cover me
Within Your mighty hand

When the oceans rise and thunders roar
I will soar with You above the storm
Father you are King over the flood
I will be still and know You are God

Find rest my soul
In Christ alone
Know His power
In quietness and trust

When the oceans rise and thunders roar
I will soar with You above the storm
Father You are king over the flood
I will be still and know You are God

Poem: A Pebble At A Time

She watches as he walks along the road
His back seems hunched from the weight
Of his burdens he has been carrying
For so long, he walks alone...
For once, he takes a break...

She walks a little distance behind him
His eyes focus only on what's ahead
Of his aspirations he has been dreaming
For some time now, he strives on...
For some moments, he doubts if he can do it

She picks up a pebble along the way
He walks up to a quiet stream
Where his heart rests and his mind sleeps
In that moment, she slips into his hands
A tiny momento... a heartfelt prayer uttered

She hopes each pebble gives him strength
He hopes to slow down the sands of time
When there will be dancing and singing
In moments of great rejoicing
A pebble tower sits... it's where her heart resides.



by momoko69
(16.7.2012)

Poem: The Song Of A Reluctant Healer

 

 

I asked the ultimate question

Within the depths of my being.

Hoping to find readymade answers…

To quell my incessant probing.

For years, I seek the world…

For remnants of love and fame.

Yet the truth of the matter is…

I have only begun to know its name.

Today I stand before you, my friend.

A changed woman not by her might,

Transformed by the faith and love

Of a Saviour who refused to fight.

Who am I to you, my Lord?

That you would want from me…

I have pittance to offer you.

Haven’t I paid the fee?

I crumble silently under the weight

Of invisible tears and broken parts.

Where do I begin… how do I start?

To heal these once shattered hearts…

Once again I have been stumped 

By frail human limitations.

Humbly and reverently I wait…

For subtle divine intercessions.

(written by momoko69, 28/11/2001)

For years after being burnt out at church, I refuse to accept my true calling to be God's healing hands. To reach out to his people meant that I have to be less of Anne and more of Christ. I didn’t want to give… I felt spent and all used up. Most of all, I didn’t think I was good enough to be made an instrument of God. Unworthy and unappreciated… almost sucked dry whenever I give. So I thought this was a good thing… self preservation! But little did I realise I'd missed the point completely. It is to lean on the knowledge and strength of our Lord. It is to depend wholly unto Him who gives us wisdom and understanding to bring peace and healing to people who have yet to know him. Thank God, for the Helper who gives insights into my feeble mind.

Song: Everything is fine!

Tessa says quietly to herself
Everything's okay, everything is fine.
I don't need anybody's help.
I don't like what I see in the mirror,
But I won't let you see it.
Yet deep down, she knows...

John works late and misses his meals,
Everything's okay, everything is fine,
I don't need anybody's pity.
I don't know where I am going in my career.
But I won't let my family see my frowns
Yet deep down, he knows...

Chorus:
Are we all crumbling? Are we alive?
Where's the truth behind these lies?
We strive so hard to hide
What's deep inside of our hearts
Can you see me? Can you feel me?

Lisa walks to the nearest clinic
Everything's okay, everything is fine
I don't need any more testing
I don't know if I will be well again
But I won't let them feel sorry for me
Yet deep down, she knows...

They hear the insults.. oh the pain
Everything's okay, everything is fine.
They don't need your words to break their bones
They will take each beating as they come
But they won't let anyone see them cry
Yet deep down, they know...

Refrain:
Can you hear them calling? Can you hear them cry?
Where's the truth behind these lies
We strive so hard to be alive
Believing one day at a time
I can see you... I can feel you!

by momoko69
(6.7.2012)

Penned these words down because there are people who go through these days. Although I have no melody to go with this song, I just wanted to write the lyrics out. The heaviness of these lives gave me inspiration to write this song.

From me to Papa

Papa God,

You knew me before I was born.
You probably saw me in my first conception, and you saw my future before me.
You probably frowned at some decisions I have made along the way all these years.
But you look out for me each time I fall.
The cuts and bruises were not so painful because You were always there beside me in silence.

Thank you for never giving up on me despite my rebellious spirit.
You are always there to open your arms each time I run home to you.
Thank you for reminding that I am loved when I don't feel so good about myself on gloomy days. There are days where I doubt if You made the right decision to choose me for each job.
But You convince me that the journey is worth far more than the destination.

Papa, when You look at me now, I hope I've made You proud. Not by what I do, but by the way I try to live my life by not looking back and moving forward to make each day count.

What counts is who I am in Your eyes.

Yours truly,
your Sheep in Progress

Reconnecting with God Through Primitive Ways

I have not been writing much these days. Perhaps the iPhone is to be blamed... much of my time is spent updating my status on Facebook. I realised I don't have much interest in writing anything since then. Recently when I started to write poetry on Facebook, I discovered I felt more alive than I have ever been in the past year or so.

Last Sunday, I started to write again. I mean on paper! Using a multicoloured pen and my notebook, I started to take notes using the most traditional ways. It actually felt good! I could write notes the way I want to, draw relevant pictures to help me remember the sermon and take time to make the sermon look colourful using my multicoloured pen.

I miss taking sermon notes this way. The iPhone makes me dull in my mind. I stopped being creative in my note-taking style. Thank you, God for your creative ways! I feel so much more awake when I use my hand to write and draw. The point of doing this is to help me make more sense of the sermon pointers and apply them back into my life on a daily basis.

Going back to basics is so important to our spiritual life as well. How often we take for granted the gift of salvation... the point of being saved and the grace of being forgiven. Whenever I feel like my spirit man feels empty or drained, I would go back to the first time when I feel closest to Him. The ways which helped me connect with Him again. The drawings, the poems, the writings, the thoughts are all part of His ways to communicate with me.

Father God, lest I forget You
Lest I take each day in vain
Teach me how to trace my steps
To where it began

Teach me the basics once more
That I may rekindle my heart's flames
Reboot my connection with you
To boost this failing spirit

As I draw, write and ponder
Bring me a refreshing perspective
Of Your Heart and Mind
That I may appreciate You once more

by momoko69
11.5.2011

She Smiles

She smiles to herself

For someone somewhere

Amused by his antics

She smiles again

For he brings the sunshine into her darkening world

Grateful for his existence

She smiles once more

For him being here at this time

Refreshed by his spirit

By momoko69

12.4.2011

Poem: Missing

I miss the sound of your voice
The firm but gentle tone
I miss the impulse of calling you
The freedom to connect

I miss the nonsensical chatter
The time spent over nothing
I miss the crazy fun games
The simple pleasure of improvising

For a while now, you are missing
The clock just keeps on ticking
For so long, you have been missing
The phone has been silent

For a moment, you were missing
The smses stopped momentarily
For a lifetime, you remained missing
The letter is waiting for its receiver

by momoko69 

28.3.2011

A Little Psalm

It took a song
To remind me of Your love
A love that was paid in blood
Your love has won my heart

That year in a little room
My tears knew no bounds
But You reminded me
You love me in spite of everything

I have failed you
Seventy times seven
Yet I see you running
With open arms
Today, this song begins again
The tears start to roll
A gentle reminder of Your stubborn love

by momoko69
30.10.2010