Flight of the Sparrow

I am amazed with the sparrow, flying like the wind. Flip and flip, it’s blue as the sky. Dancing and dancing while the sunlight plays with its feathers. Black and white. Brown and yellow. Blue and gray.

Teasing the newly-cut grass with its wings.
Kissing the flowers with its beak.

Up and down. Round and round.

I am on the stands watching the field as if it were a stage. Whoever the playwright is, he doesn’t realize there is beauty in this breakdown scene.

On the perch it sat and nobody noticed. The field is as blank as its face. Emotionless as its eyes. Silent as its unheard song.

Then, dire and wild, it flew. Free as the wind. Careless as distant whispers. High as every mountain.

To hell with stares. The sparrow is free…

It dances under the sun with the whistling leaves as music. Alas, the melody is spread… and heard by the others.

It is never to dance alone again.

But it tires… and then stands quietly on the dying grass.

Yes, it is never to dance alone.It is never to dance again.

One by one the others tire, one by one they stand on their places. The field as blank as their faces. Emotionless as their eyes. Nobody hears their song. There they stood still, distant to each other.

The wind blows.

And where the sparrows once flew, there danced a meek butterfly. White as snow with dirt. Almost insignificant on stage.

But to a just observer, it is the life of the show.

It enters the scene with every color that pleases the eyes. Black and white. Brown and yellow. Blue and gray.

Whoever the playwright is, he is never gonna find out the beauty behind the curtains - the butterfly that makes you doubt what you believe in, and believe in your every doubt.

Direction

No matter how you ignore the gentle buzzes and silent glares, the world still matters to me. You can neglect the fact that we both exist on it but it speaks of everything about us.

You were North and I was South. There existed polarity. And naturally opposites attract. Nothing to argue about.

You were North and I was South. And no matter how we connected there was always that fine line that separated us. Plus the hundreds of thousands of miles and hundreds of millions of people in between. You were North and I was South… and we were two.

But though there was contrast, it was the same coldness that enveloped the poles. The ice would never melt and nobody would want to stay. Nobody would want to be there forever.

There we were standing at both ends, with the edge of the world on our feet. There we were miles apart and only the imaginary longitudes connected us. And we could only dream of them as our fingers interlaced with each other. Nothing more.

That was in the world we had lived in… we have gone beyond it. We have left the world where we were North and South.

Now you are East and I am West. Going opposite directions but meeting somewhere along the way. We are on a single path. And when we do meet, we would have crossed the world. We may drift away but we would naturally come back to being one. The once imaginary longitudes have become latitudes that go with us. The fine line that once separated us now guide our feet. And everything else is according to our wishes - the natural rotation leads us back to each other. Just one turn and I’m back in your arms. And even when you leave with the sun as it rises, you would come down back to me in the end.

You are East and I am West… and wherever we’re heading, we’ll make it together.

Undefined Asymptote

I am drifting off again. I envy ‘f(a)’, ‘the limit of f(x) as x approaches a’, and ‘the limit of f(x) as x approaches a equals f(a)’ - at least you know these things exist when a function f is continuous at a number a. Well, ok. You’re aware of me… and my invisibility.

Let a be defined as h(x) = the limit of (3 + x) as x approaches 1. Because the limit of h(x) as x approaches 1 from the left is not equal to the limit of h(x) as x approaches 1 from the right, condition (ii) fails to hold at x = 1; so h is discontinuous at 1.

Relate to the saying: it takes two to tango. You’ll need both your left and right hands to hold something in place. But in my case, my “something” is not pushed back by an equal opposing force. Ok, let’s say you know I’m getting into you, and now you’re pushing back my little something. But you’re overdoing it; you’re putting in a little more effort and it’s pushing me away. Can’t you exert just enough force so we can hold this thing together? Don’t you realize I want to stay just right here?

What if only condition (i) was not satisfied? That f(a) does not exist? We remove the discontinuity by defining f(a). We let f(a) be defined as whatever number fits the function.
But love is not just a variable in some math equation. It can never be defined.

I am drifting off to infinity… where all I see is you, where only one name exists and that belongs to you, where your eyes are on everything worth looking at, where your voice echoes anywhere I’m at, and where nothing does not make me think of you.

No, don’t be scared, this is not an obsession. You’ve just captivated me in the most possessive way I wouldn’t want to belong to anyone else. I am yours and I will continue to be as long as you’re you. And trust me I still don’t have plans of getting you out my head. This is MY infinity.
But unfortunately I have been deprived of the belief that infinity goes way, way beyond this wretched world. And while I know there is an end to this dreaming, I’m trying not to figure out and find reasons why I should exit.

Sure there is a limit at infinity. But the limit is not ON it… at least not for now.

I love you and even if no theorem or postulate could prove to you how much I do, let me love every bit of you ’til infinity runs out of definition… if it ever gets to that.

Let Me Let You In on a Little Secret

People push people towards wherever their hands direct them to. I happen to fall out of place, people here, people there. Then you smile at me and they all disappeared.

Sun rays glisten and rain down on me as if embracing my whole body. We looked forward to my past and never looked back to people living fast-paced lives. No cold stares or annoying whispers. Let’s run away from it all. Hold on tight, we’re gonna fly.

And as we turn back time we moved a little farther. Give me a little piece of who you have been and what you’ve been through. Make me feel I belong; I am entering your world… as you already have entered mine.

And what would I not give to stay this way? Make the blue turn to gray, and look deep in my eyes. Another feel on the throat, another breath to share. Our world now full of colors even the rainbow doesn’t define.

Broken glass.

Snap back to reality. We have landed on both feet. Hard. No more songs to lull us to sleep; the blue-turned-gray is back to brown. I am still lost in you but you turned away. Goodbye, my light.

The lining of the clouds captivate me as we walk. With no words… we’re leaving us behind.

Chase the sunset away. Bring me back my unfinished day.

People push people towards wherever their hands direct them to. I happen to fall out of place, people here, people there. Smile at me again and make everything else disappear.

Then with quivering lips and trembling hands, three words were spoken… but unheard.

Say it again.

Then three words now happen with a too. Hush and stay close so they can’t hear… Stay quiet and stay near… but the night must take over.

Goodbye, my light. Burn and fade into the night.

And as I lay and lull myself to sleep, I’ll let you in on a little secret no one else could keep.

Hush and stay close so they can’t hear.
Oh, burn and fade into the night.