Castle of Dreams and Reality

The beating Heat, the pouring Rain.

Look up into the Sun, look down to your Earth.

These are the instruments of Toil and Joy;

Inspiration to weigh our deeds and worth.

Through the elements, we sneak a peek,

Into the Reality of Creation and Destruction.

Two inseparable faces of the same coin, 

Dual forces moulding but Our function.

I stand atop the soil that is me,

I feel the Sun and the Rain. 

The elements remind me of my barren state,

They teach through heartbreak and pain.

Alas, to Him do I still rely and return,

This clay can never harden without the Sun,

This clay can never soften without the Rain,

But a base, the castle is made by One, for One.

Jungle

Yang muda tak tahu bahasa,

yang tua mudah terasa.

Ada telinga, dengar.

Ada mata, lihat.

Ada mulut, diam.

As I lay to sleep, eyes open yet unseeing, my mind went to the place where it tries to unravel the world, my world. Interestingly, yet unsurprisingly, it came upon the pleasures of sleep.

Why do we enjoy sleep? I assume it's because the body releases a cacophony of neurotransmitters and relaxants such as dopamine that corresponds to the pleasure sensors in our brain. But why? Why does the body do that? Sleep becomes the physical salvation of the tired, much like how even water tastes sweet to the thirsty! This physical valuation set by the body to certain acts and situations, truly powerful. But it begs the question of function. The dichotomy of existence and the respective function, the body and the soul. 

In the split second between consciousness and unconsciousness, the subconscious took hold and my mind unravelled the reality of the body's illusory sensations. Suddenly I questioned the reliability and integrity of the body (as I often do) in telling me what is good and what isn't. Our senses are fallible, biased and almost entirely basal. How could it ever discern for me the good and the bad when it's mere capacity is so shallow. Sleep, food, carnal pleasures and dominance - beastly. 

Deeper, therein lies the true compass of the good and the bad. Once I regained comfort, I slept a deep sleep, hoping that the Compass will never fail me.

Dreams

I walk at night, not with feet in my blanket, not with eyes shut,
but with my tethered soul, wandering through spaces in time.
I don't know what realm we go to, as we cross from here to there,
the place where reality is superimposed only that we can relate.

They say we can't dream of people we've never seen,
does it apply for the places we've never been?
Sometimes I go to places that I have always thought of,
places unseen and unheard, but not unknown to me.

Can you dream of the voice of someone you've never met?
Or how they smile and look at you? I don't think so.
Yet, in my dreams I see and meet people who I've only seen pictures,
and they smile and they greet, their voices is it real?

But something tells me that voices don't come from throats,
that voices are only needed between two who need language.
These people, they don't speak through such rough modes,
their hearts connect and they reveal what is in theirs, yes.

If dreams were bright metal, these would be just a sliver,
while the rest like pebbles in a river, either dull or beautiful.
Then there's the occasional pebble, black, sharp and painful.
In the end, they're all pebbles for me to leave a path, to walk.

Back to my body.