Thursday, May 2, 2013

That Spark

Photo retrieved @
http://www.sparkthefilm.com/images/poster_600.jpg

The music box. There's one inside that sings and dances when I peep within. When I dare to allow some whimsical change in nature put a smile on my face. Something inside grows wings, tries to fly but it can't. It's trapped inside, but at the same time isn't, as it moves me and with me. It's a beautiful paradox I've stored for a long time, kept it there silently, rather unknowingly than silently. I've let it grow and grow like a fairy tale stock just recently. And to my surprise, good things happen to those who wait and...toil. Trapped in the web of my own logic, I go back to some simple thinking. I take a bow, put on the clothes of meekness and re-evaluate the self. That self that I've claimed to have known for a fair amount of time, only to realize how little do I know about sparks that occasionally surge to signal that there is something deep down that my busy mind and blind heart haven't taken the time to acknowledge. It's a bitter-sweet feeling to find a long-forgotten spark, a spark that brings back in a flash, the memory of something one loved. That's the sweet feel. But when one piles up lack of time, preconceived ideas, others' ideas and a thick layer of time, that spark is covered up under the weight of so many no's. But what a relief is it when by some serendipitous twist of the faith it shines again. It's the spark of some liking, of an old-beaten path that leads to much desired sense that there is something inherently good that one can do, despite its perfectly human flaws. It's the voice of a calling. But how do you explain when you love something or someone?You don't. If Maurice Sendak doesn't I probably shouldn't either.