1. The Spot
In my heart there was a spot where we stood where I stand, still. And flowers that grew there have withered and died around me, when the seasons changed. I miss them, and for this, I waited there, for yet another spring. When spring came, and while they grew again – dancing upon a passing wind, unbreakable yet – the spot where we stood, where I stand, still, remained empty your footprints all but blown away.
Yet I waited.
This spring I found, on the spot we stood where you no longer stand, a single, shy flower growing. And for this now you can no longer stand there. I sat and looked at it for a long time. There is now space for only me to stand here. I realise I am in the way. This is a garden where only flowers shall grow. And I musn’t stand any longer, on the spot where we once stood, so another flower can grow, where I stand, still. I must go. Find another garden to stand in. On my way, and over there, perhaps I will find you, perhaps not; perhaps you will find me, perhaps not. But I must go now.
If you ever come back to find me there, please know, on the place where we stood, the flowers now grow. It is sweet and it is fragrant and in spring it dances in the passing wind, unbreakable yet. That is how I shall remember, the spot where we once stood.
2. In Little Pieces
Everything in this world is fleeting,
and so sometimes I think
He gives you your miseries together
so it is over sooner,
and you are humbled faster,
then your joys in little pieces,
so they last longer.
3. Floored
It was while you laid down on the floor, that you straightened out your back – your back, that which held you in place – that you begin to appreciate the expanse and existence of things above you, without filling the space with yourself. On the floor, there was nowhere else to fall. You could see in all the spaces, how the light falls. And all they had to do was open a window, and the light would fall on you, drizzling with brightness that would take some time for you to learn to see in.
It was while you laid down on the floor, that the little things seemed so large. The little mercies by those who saw you, and wouldn’t step on you. There seemed to be so much space to grow, so much room to stand. And all around you, they stood, walking, hurrying, turning, talking, whispering and you heard them all from where you were, but they didn’t see you.
It was while you laid down on the floor, that you felt the coolness of the earth, the loveliness of being caught, by solid ground. And you felt yourself remembering something old and true and wordless in you, that being up there, walking hurrying, turning, talking, whispering – had made you forget.
4. Forgiving
Remember what He saved you from,
From so many years,
living in twilight
Then opening up daylight
and pouring it over your sight
Let enter, the Most Forgiving
In your heart, the less forgiving,
Lest the grudges you have held against yourself
Hold you hostage
And rage
Against all the love
The Most Loving
Is sending your way.
Naz Abas Ng a spiritual wayfarer with love for words, poetry, black and white photos with the occasional embrace of colours.
Naz Abas Ng’s latest self published effort is The Little Things, a book of poems illustrated by her original black and white photographs. She has previously self published In The Absence of Magic in 2009, a collection of short stories and poems. Her black and white photography work was exhibited at the Broadway Media Centre, Nottingham, UK from October – November 2004.
She is an environmental engineer by training, and currently works as an environmental executive in the oil and gas industry. She lives in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia amongst amazing family and friends. She blogs at http://nazabasng.tumblr.com/aboutnazabasng
