Dove and the Waterline

Dove and the Waterline
Jeffrey Foucault

I wrote you a song from under the sky
From the field where the snow fell down
And the town threw up its light
Against the clouds into the night
Like a wall to keep the flood from bearing down

And I said hello can you help me
Do you know
What I'm doing can you tell me
Where I'm bound
The stars all have names
And the angels have the same
But I'm lost and so much want
To be found

I wrote you a prayer from inside the walls
Of this country where the cold wind blows
And a storm into the sea
Rang out against man's every plea
To rouse my soul and steal my body down below
And I said hello can you help me

Do you know
What I'm doing can you tell me
Where I'm bound
I'm cast awayInto the deep and compassed there
No soul to keepAfire and to the water burning down
And I said hello can you help me
Do you know
What I'm doing can you tell me
Where I'm bound
The stars all have names
And the angels have the same
But I'm lost and I so much want
To be found

july 18 '06

i am sooo loving this weather! the sky is downcast and the air is cool and crisp. the trees and plants look greener against the pale surroundings. everything seems to be fresh and new. there are mud puddles everywhere which one tries to miss when going out on the streets. i saw children today who were playing in the rain and how i envy them! i remember when i was small, my sisters and i used to sneak at the back of our house, away from nanang my grandma just to play and bathe in the rain. we soaked ourselves with rain water, jumping and splashing, until we get caught by nanang who would reprimand us, her shrill scolding darted towards ate, who she thought was pasimuno of it all. ha ha. the best part there was during thunderstorms. just like other kids, my siblings and I were terrified of lightning and thunder. we covered our ears at the very flash of lightning. but that didn't stop us from bathing in the rain. when lightning strikes, we dashed towards the house for protection. ofcourse we knew very well the dreadful story nanang told- of how a young girl who went to the ricefield and was struck dead, her brains scattered after being hit by a lightning. we knew too well that story. but we were children, who were brave and adventurous and mischievous. truly, pasaways. haay, gone were those days..

its mysterious how the raindrops sound when falling on our rooftop. of how it can stir up conflicting emotions upon me. i feel a certain fear or anxiety when i hear the first few big drops. like the world is going to end anytime soon. but the moment it pours, i feel the thrill and the excitement of it all. and then i go looking for sopas or noodles or champorado. and then i can go watch tv, read a book or just simply stare out the window- imagining, wondering, smiling.

resigned

july 2 '06

The more I think about it, the more pleased I am with myself. I am getting better at these. I am winning every war, slowly, but still, victorious. I do get better. People can get better. We can overcome. Isnt amazing how experience teaches us values that armor us against life s disparity? Life is never fair. It never was. I am done with that word. While I still hold that life belongs to the beautiful, beautiful ones, I am comforted. Because I know that wherever life takes me, God is there, who is just, kind and loving.


We all have different roles to play, with each and every person we have relationships with. Oftentimes I see where I am (with this one particular relationship). So clear like the rays of the sun on a fine, cloudless day. And ironically too, where I am is heartbreakingly cold, overcast, gloomy. Sometimes I am so resigned to that idea. To that role I am supposed to play. And it makes me sad. Yet I dont fight anymore. Its ok. God must have a pretty superb reason for all of these and I know I'll get an excellent back-up from Him one of these days.