The story often starts with a setting which plays either a comedic or tragic influence to the progression of the character/s journey. For this particular story, it needed the magnificence and turmoil that can only exist in Mindanao, the Land of Fulfilled Promises (or so-called promises?).
Like a fairytale weaved with a sense of magic, a little mayhem (by a little is meant mayhem that is still sort of understood or can be intellectualized about), and most definitely a little sprinkle of a love story here and there, our journey intersected where others chose to part. A nearly doctorate writing from Down Under, a royalty with his unique take on politics, and a Stranger in a strange land, all met during a story night for a couple of ales that spells out a story quite unfinished as of yet.
Like a normal individual, it might take a Herculean effort to try and see the story to the end, to follow the what-ifs, or to even try and participate in it once more. Maybe the brother from Down Under was right but then I would still have to wait for the conclusion in the grand opera he has yet to finish. Maybe it will take a couple more bottles from the cellar to find the muse once again and have him on the wings of chance and change.
Like a poet who often loses words only to find new metaphors to play with, a meeting was nullified for a chance to be updated with the Who’s Who in that big island down south. To this brother I am reminded of your favorite spiritual poet (Jalal ad-Din Rumi) when he said, “Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I will meet you there.”
And unlike the silent sutras that thread in and out of our consciousness I remain a physical bound mortal running amok with the change that perseveres in the experience we call Life. The next ride in the carousel might not be the same horse but it definitely will bring you around for another ride. Different moments and different modes but The Song Remains the Same (Led Zeppelin) –
I had a dream. Crazy dream.
Anything I wanted to know, any place I needed to go
Hear my song. People won’t you listen now? Sing along.
You don’t know what you’re missing now.
Any little song that you know
Everything that’s small has to grow.
And it has to grow!
California sunlight, sweet Calcutta rain
Honolulu starbright – the song remains the same.
Sing out Hare Hare, dance the Hoochie Koo.
City lights are oh so bright, as we go sliding… sliding… sliding through.
Through (?), maybe one thing has been said, post massacre/martyrdom and post elections blues/bliss, and the challenge has been set. We simply follow through (!) with the words from Down Under in a retirement dream down south, with a royalty awakening from slumbers of legality, and a Stranger who dreams of words that play to a new world order.
That meeting might take place when we heed the same man, who pointed out the actual setting of this fantasy:
“Let the beauty of what you love be what you do.” – Jalal ad-Din Rumi