Skywatch Friday -Season 4, Episode 12

 Sunset - Montevideo- Uruguay

  Sunset - Montevideo- Uruguay

A mausoleum and the sky - Paysandu - Uruguay

Go to http://skyley.blogspot.com/, to see who else posted, today.

Finding contenment

Maria’s heart howls in pain, resentment and a bunch of contradictory emotions. An injured heart can be unreasonable sometimes and lead to do things that may later cause regrets and more pain. Emotional wounds need to bleed, clearing out all the poisoning feelings, draining away bitterness and rage. Writing allows her to express her emotions without causing any collateral damage.

She is aware that clarity is essential before acting, as emotional reactions take away the chance to grow and learn. So, she freely lets her fingers do the typing without asking or judging; quietly attempting to read in between the lines of the dropping tears from her disappointed heart.

It is hard to hold the need to retort, to control the call to reign over the offender, it's like going against human nature and willingly surrendering to the circumstances.

She compares her situation with an oil lamp, where her emotions are the oil burning the wick, at first they burst almost out of control, but once that piece of wick has scorched and is cut off, the emotional flame becomes steady. Gradually wrath is being replaced by understanding; things become clear as the light of acceptance is turned on.

A peaceful smile illuminates her face as she realizes once again that even in the darkest of times one can find contentment, if one remembers to turn on the light.

"Your feelings will never get you into "trouble," because your feelings are your truth. If you want to live a life where every feeling is filtered through the machinery of your Mind, go right ahead. But don't look for joy in such machinations, nor for celebration of Who You Are" -Neale Donald Walsch

© Gabriela Abalo

Written for Magpie Tales – #34

Souls' journey

Walking life paths
Some with their head very high
Others with their head down
Some walking slow
Others hiking as fast as they can

Some seeing a light at the end of the tunnel
Others noticing the brightness all way through
To not so few, everything is black and white
While to others it is a matter of perspective

Several are disturbed by the diverts of the path
Whereas quite a number enjoy the unexpected
Some laugh and dance
Others cry and crawl

Many travel alone and undisturbed
Many move in groups and concerned
Various walk in awareness of the moment
Several march anxious and unfulfilled

There isn’t a right or a wrong way
There isn’t a safe or a perilous pursuit
Approach and attitude are decisive
Each journey is unique

The drive is self-controlled
No one to blame
Not a soul to retort
The journey is our very own

Souls’ tales and realities
of souls voyaging through life



© 2010 Gabriela Abalo

Check more poems at: One Shot Wednesday

Warrior

Feeling out of place
Craving for familiar faces
Longing for warm welcomes
Aching for the sense of belonging

Trying to keep it together
Defeated?
Isolated?
Anxious?
Not at all!

A warrior of light never gives up
A warrior of love is never alone
But a warrior is always challenged
Invited to look within

It isn’t easy to start anew
Walking through unknown paths
Holding faith very tight
Allowing patience to guide the way
Embracing contentment until the end

Sometimes loneliness is suffocating
Patience runs out
Faith is nowhere to be found
And contentment seems a fairy tale

Wondering on and off
On all I know
Doubting anything
Suspicious of everything

Breathing in and out
Reconnecting with the self
Acknowledging who I am

Displaced…
Learning…
Growing…


© Gabriela Abalo

Check more poems at: One Shot Wednesday

My rune

That distressing night
It wasn’t pretty light
But I still wanted to write
Many verses in spite
Raising my voice like a kite
And with all my might

I wrote my rune
To recite it to the moon
During the month of June
That was coming very soon
And needed to be in tune
With my upsetting afternoon

Looking at the stars
While hearing the guitars
I devoured all my chocolate bars
As if they could cure my scars

A tune to the moon
Written by the lagoon
A chant to the stars
To be played by sitars
A hymn to the night
calling for the light



© Gabriela Abalo



For Poetry Potluck

My dearest - Weekend reflections # 52

I took this picture during a fishing trip - Lower Zambezi - Zambia

Lovely, tender and caring hands – such are the hands of my man

Enjoy more reflections at: Weekend reflections

Skywatch Friday -Season 4, Episode 10

Sunrise - Rio de la Plata - Montevideo - Uruguay

The sky, the city and the port - Rio de la Plata

and then the rain came...

I captured these images for SkyWatch Friday


© Gabriela Abalo

Father Time

Tell me; oh tell me my dear
What I want to hear!
Come, come near
Can you see my tear?

Whispers in my ear
Things I don’t want to hear
Truths I fear
Matters that aren’t clear

Stop, stop… please don’t disappear
I will try to be sincere
So please reappear
and tell me all about yesteryear

Why are you too severe?
I’m not acting weird!
I’m full of revere
And not at all insincere

I know you will persevere
Until I’m convinced there isn’t any frontier
Tell me; oh tell me my dear
What I don’t want to hear!
But don’t jeer

I did hear what I fear
I did clear my tear
You have been sincere
but please disappear…


© Gabriela Abalo

Written for Magpie Tales – #32

Palacio Salvo Reflections

I love reflections... they give a different perspective of things.
They are universal whispers telling us that not everything is black and white.


Some weeks ago I was asked to take some pictures of the Palacio Salvo, a building that doesn't attract me at all, but I found a different way to portrait it... through some reflections:











Follow this link: Weekend Reflections to see many more!

Promise

I stare at you from afar,
Like a thief I hide and survey
I wonder how happy you truly are
I muse how devoted you really are
I ponder how you can live like that...

Without a thought I walked away from my hiding place
No longer aware that I may be seen
I get closer to the window that is keeping you away
Looking through and devouring your image
Hating the disguising clothes hiding your exquisite figure

With rebel tears running through my face
I hold my urge to call your name
I’m no longer begging, imploring or pleading
I’m done with all that!

I’m going away
Leaving you in my past
and by no means, coming back

But then again I know I should return
To steal a glance every Thursday at noon
when you are by the window praying to your God
while sending your forbidden love to me

You kept your promise
But I can’t keep mine
The pain and loneliness is unbearable
knowing that we will never be together

You chose your God
I just choose my freedom…



© Gabriela Abalo


Written for Magpie Tales – #31

Reason

Searching for reasons?...

“Reason is the natural order of truth; but imagination is the organ of meaning.”
- C.S. Lewis

“Prejudices are what fools use for reason.”
- Voltaire

“The way to see by Faith is to shut the Eye of Reason.”
- Benjamin Franklin

“The heart has reasons that reason cannot know.”
- Blaise Pascal

“The reasonable man adapts himself to the world; the unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself. Therefore all progress depends on the unreasonable man.”
- George Bernard Shaw

“The man who listens to Reason is lost: Reason enslaves all whose minds
are not strong enough to master her”
- George Bernard Shaw

“Dubito ergo cogito; cogito ergo sum.
(I doubt, therefore I think; I think therefore I am)”
- Rene Descartes

To enjoy more Reason posts visit Theme Thursday

Thwarted

… And that is what she did for the very last time in her earthy life… she bit an apple before choking to dead…
What a derisive way to die… so simple, so unexpected and so unbelievable. She didn’t even like apples at all, but had gotten this one to eat while trying to swallow the idea that her name wasn’t appearing anymore in the magazine… that it wasn’t a nightmare but the unbearable truth… someone else was the Editor of her magazine, someone else had taken her life away.
She looks down at her laying body, resting in a comical position, and then she pays attention to her blue face with wide open eyes, a pathetic portrait of someone gotten by surprise. What a depressing way to die… totally out of place for a sophisticated woman like her. She should have died surrounded by drama and glamor, with much more excitement and sense of risk… but there she was choked to death by a mere unattractive apple. "What will people say? That she couldn’t afford caviar and champagne for breakfast anymore; that she was finished and broke".
With relief she realizes that she isn’t alive anymore, that she will not have to face their mocks, humiliations and sniggers. She will not be there to hear them saying: “The Iron Queen was killed by an apple… a simple, unappealing apple…hahaha!”

All of a sudden she begins to laugh, so loud, so unreservedly, and so freely that she started to choke again… “But wait a minute! How can she be choking if she is already dead? Something isn’t making sense”. Suddenly her line of thoughts is being interrupted by a deep and sharp pain in her chest. She feels the need to breathe again, to fill her lungs with a big gulp of pure, rich and tasteful air, so she does…
The nausea and pain are overwhelming; she is breathing with difficulty and can hardly hear what people say around her. She takes a few minutes to compose herself, but as soon as she does, Ambrosia wants to drop dead once again... everybody is looking at her with sadness and concern, feeling sorry for her. The shame is too much to handle it with class, so she fakes to faint and then keeps her eyes tightly closed until the paramedics place her in the ambulance for further treatment.

How can she choke in the restaurant of one of the most exclusive hotels, exposed and threatened in front of the most important business people! She doesn’t want to even imagine how awkward she should have looked when “that somebody” was performing CPR on her while attempting to save her life… Gosh, she’d rather be dead than alive… the shame is too much indeed.

© Gabriela Abalo

Written for Magpie Tales – #30