Of Hopes And Dreams Poem by Jaypee Belarmino

correct me, i am not much of a poet,
and so i write humbly with the rhythm of pure human existence,
the essence of which transcends the level beyond one's understanding….

and now i write with patience,
that i may be able to paint the emotions that glare in my heart,
something so eventful
yet as still as the night breeze that longs to touch the resting face of the green summer grasses,
as though they wait for the dew to come and be one with the harmony of calmness,
of mutual need,
of an affair only the nature can fully understand.

only then shall we come to realize
that there are things we can't explain,
that there are things bound to happen,
and all that we can do is listen to these things and trust them…

blame it not to our true nature and radical instincts
that we basically fear to share the sympathy of our hearts…
blame it not to the compulsive fluidity of our unconditional affection…

blame it to no one -
because there are things designed to come and pass in every way
that may not satisfy our own expectations.

so worry not
about achieving the mutual phase
of experiencing the wonders of true love,
because it is the only unadulterated thing
in this outwardly communicated world
that lets us feel the music of the swaying milky melon trees,
of the graceful bending of the lovely daffodils
when kissed by the gentle wind on a lazy Sunday afternoon;
it is the only music that only our nurturing hearts shall hear;
it is the only thing that is so erratic, so peculiar, so bizarre, so weird,
yet, without it, i never would have smiled whenever i hear your words,
i never would have laughed whenever you tell me crazy little stuffs,
i never would have realized how beautiful and perfect you are, inside and out…

correct me, i am not much of a poet,
and so i write humbly with the rhythm of pure human existence,
the essence of which transcends the level beyond one's understanding….