Once were warriors

Once a gunner, always a gunner.

A major and a lieutenant sit at table. Reminiscing about the days gone by.

Anyone would see 2 men sitting down talking in shorts but in each others mindscapes, they wear their number no.1 whites, swords at hip, officers and gentlemen.

They talk about life, of joys and dreams.

The older yearns on the past, of kampong days and the glory of the older generation. The younger tells of his love found and cherished.

Life has changed remarkably for these 2 men. A warrior poet and a writer warrior , now floating in life's eddy and flow.

Life seemed so much simpler through the iron sights of the M16 did they not?

Still, in God's hands and plan, these 2 now meet, the rifle strap replaced with a camera's.

Once were warriors, now are men, walking Gods path.

Dear Lord,

Help us walk strong and be your agents in this world.

Amen.

Randomness

I find myself dressed in my black running singlet, typing on a tiny white laptop.

Roti prata in one hand (on the table of course) and a tiger beer in the other.

The air is humid and warm.

Yes, this is Singapore in all its midnight surburban glory.

~~~

In this time - a random flow of words.

There was a time, perhaps there still is time.

Dreams, ebbs, flows, they all have their moments don't they?

A ribbon of meloncolia flits in the air tonight, perhaps its the tiger talking.

Sometimes we miss the rhythmic thumb of the march. The ridigity of struture.

Others we reach, for the unatainable fluidity only preceived in the freedom of youth.

We petty humans, we mere mortals.

My ways are above yours...

so sayth the lord.

Thank goodness they are...

The Desert

Dear Lord,

I trust you.

I can't see ahead, but I know you are leading.

In you I am a great man.

In you is my future.

You have blessed me so much.

I know you will see me through.