Heres Estrella

More Stars than There are

Tag: spirituality

Living in A Present End

The Sun rises upon our City,
Shining through
and eventually rising past
the Dust
and Smog of Unspeakable
Terror---

That which some of
US have been Spraying
and Pressing,
with an devilish
determination of Doom,

Upon those defenseless
in our muddy, Earthly
Lot.

You Stand by
the East-facing window,
and Dawn radiates itself
half-muffled,
through our Now
Sedated Sky---

Constrained by its
Silver veneer of death,
Mapped haphazardly
and logically
Overhead.

You Look back
in the Mirror, and
the Silhouette looks
Back sickly,

With Blood-Shot Eyes.

He looks back at you,
as if you were the one
who were dead,

"Have you been suffering obliviously,
If not having had been
Duped
into Half-Hosting
Our Greatest War?

Living one eye blind,
While having lent the other
to play mere Bystander?"

A Breath of Change

*** A bit of a Update ***

After having sat on the idea of this initiative for many months, I’ve finally taken a step towards associating my work platform with a less pretentious and ridiculous label, renaming it from the former name of “Vermis Meridiem” to “Heres Estrella,” the latter of which having a much closer tie to my Name, “Heres Pang” (you are free to make whatever assumption about my circumstances and physical attributes from this name alone—but I hope it ultimately does not interfere with your reception of my written works themselves, which are magnitudes more critical than how I intend to be or am actually perceived).

From everything said above, the only notion I am trying to convey here is that, from this point on, I am going to take greater care, time, and effort towards managing more serious output, the kind that I hope to snowball into collections of material that can exert greater reach over you, portions of our society, and beyond.

Again, I hope.

(One can only Hope, Inshallah).

As for you, the Dear Individual reading along this very line, I wish for you to have greater success over finding your own place in our world. And by this I mean not overindulging in the idea that you (or me, or anyone else) is more special, privileged, or distinguished relative to anyone else, but instead realizing more and more with practice and time,  that our species is driven towards the greatest of its feats of marvel under the internalization of a broader fact:

Each of US is no more or less than a very necessary brush stroke on a grand, cohesive canvas—the picture painted on which would be rendered less complete if any of You and I remained unawakened to our delegated, interdependent roles.

(In short, a little less being in the center of attention, and a little more playing our position. In a good and cosmic way, that is).

*** End of Update ***

It has been a long and testing Winter, and even in its closure, the Coldness seeps into this late-on-arrival Spring. Things are certainly changing, so let’s not sit out the impetuous wave this time.

 

—Gather Ye Flowers While Ye May, my Kin.

 

Best Wishes,
Heres Pang.

 

 

Facing A Twilight Sky

Who placed this horrific Thorn
In my Bone and Flesh?!

Was it a Tough Teacher,
Who, through all harsh disciplining,
Still intends to Nourish—

Or, was it merely
An ill-wishing
Witch?
.
.
.

Wise Shamans kindly remind Us
To not think only in what Lacks,

But We mortals remain too Hungry
For our own Sakes—

Wisdom passed on,
Yet scantily We digest.

Oh the Irony, baby.
Are we Rocks
In this Fountain of Life,

Wet, but never to have
Drunken a true Share?
.
.
.

If it is too hard
To stay Awake,
May I at last humbly ask
Of thee—

My Love, my Kin,
my Eternal Mate, whomever
I think You are—

Could You please contemplate,
Inconveniently, this corny and overused Notion,

“Have you ever seen the Rain?” 

Well, Have You?
Have you heard its Forthcoming,
And allowed its Simple Rumor

To have Stirred you
Deep,
Deep inside?
.
.
.

Now,
Shall We Sit
Side by side, and Once More
Try to taste the Ocean
In this Raining Sky?

Something to Look Forward to

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Spring is surely a most wonderous time of the year, but it is not a cliché comprised of magical healing, nor does it promise total restoration of all that’s wrong with ourselves and the world around us. One could stand amidst sceneries breath-takingly beautiful, and still be haunted by inner shadows convincing him/herself that nothing is alright, that there has been too much wrong for glimpses of hope to realize into change or mending actions. However, if one chooses to see in symbols, drawing connections between observed physicality and metaphysical connotations, then a natural phenomenon like The Spring has much to offer: look at the Dandelion, never planted with intention, even conventionally seen as a pest, a weed that besmirches the neatness of civilized gardens; yet without any positive expectations, they flourish nearly everywhere, scattering on the sidewalks, swaying underneath interstate speedways, and sprouting in the middle church yards (as shown in photograph)—embodying bundles of wishes, waiting for the eventual breeze make them come true. Now think of us, how similar some of our lives may resemble that of the Dandelion—outwardly without deliberate meaning: we don’t know why we are here, or what is expected us on a grand scheme. We are scattered upon our Earth to germinate all over the place like the Dandelions. But does this  mean we ought not to bloom like them and erect our individual bouquets of dreams and ideals out of the soil beneath? Should we do so regardless of how undesirable or lost we think we are? The Dandelions do…then as their not overly distant relatives on this Earth, could we learn to live more as they do? Make a sincere wish for yourselves this year, and send its silky winged seeds sky-bound—may it germinate and sprout into existence when Spring returns again. 

Spring Forgives

Spring was late to smile upon us this year—Her sweetness felt shorter than usual, yet it was just as reassuring as the all the eternal Hope that She embodies. We shall take in full Gratitude what Grace, regardless of how ephemeral,  that She has kindly imparted upon all of us—whether we opened our sleeping eyes to See or not.

Baptized Lot of Metropolitan

It’s been raining all day here in my city; it’s nice to have these temporary periods of freezing but ultimately refreshing showers, as if nature is cleansing all of us in a preparatory ceremony of what’s ahead. Contrary to the conventional morose connotations associated with overcast days with incessant, chilling precipitation, I wish to persuade all of us to see it under a different light: Rain Excites; it dawns upon those who are willing the physical manifestation of inner tranquility, and rinses the once dried-up-tight knots of both the mind and body. Rain is a spiritual symbol of the meditative, altered state of mind, as well as the carrier of life. 

 

The Curse

Cutting ropes

and

Breaking ties

So to survive;

Those who do not

See your hidden

Saint

Will only hate

You

For bearing It—

They live

In a constant

Blinding fear,

and

Always spite

And ostracize

Their few

Neglected Kin—

Rare Souls

Tragically favored

By the Heavens.