FALL, the most invigorating season in New England. The season of gorgeous color combinations that can make anyone swoon and head over heel. The season of apple harvest, pumpkin galore, beautiful foliage and the crisp air. Fall in New England is extravagant and exuberant. I wouldn’t want to miss one fine day in the fall so to feel its beauty. I would wait for the blue sky and sunshine to go out and take my camera with me. But sometimes I didn’t get the chance to do that and rely mostly on my camera phone. Usually this happened when I was out and about in downtown or around Yale University campus. I pass by the campus many times at least once a week. I love going about there between the stone buildings and admire the season as it develops. I love the arrogancy of fall, of its splendor that entices my soul and makes me exclaim in delight, “Wow!”
It’s November again and I have been lacking in writing my journal. The long gloomy days have produced some restless thoughts. Autumn begins to unravel and soon all the trees will be bare. Yet another November comes to mind and the flame that has hidden, arises.
HIDDEN FLAME – John Dryden
I feed a flame within, which so torments me
That it both pains my heart, and yet contents me:
‘Tis such pleasing smart, and I so love it,
That I had rather die than once remove it.
Dear old boyfriend,
I found your emotions typed neatly on a piece of yellowing paper.
I read the contents of your heart in the A-B-C’s of your unsophisticated language.
In those whirling-twirling, upside-down and lopsided world we called “our world”, I was yours and you were mine.
I listened to your relentless, unimaginative words upon words from your lips.
You whispered some nonsensical dreams that I didn’t mind at all. And I had heard them in the hundreds hours we shared. I have felt them through your fingers.
Then you came, and you have come, and you made me glad. You made me mad about you.
We spoke about life, though we must’ve sounded pathetic.
Did we have some memories then? Here and there, have you ever looked at them? Searched for them, deep in your mind?
Then, you remember. I, too, remember a part of us. The way we were.
I called you ‘my beloved’ and you let me. You let me.
I let you submerged in my ambiguity and I called it LOVE.
D. Yustisia 05/28/15