Why "Sleep Cloak"?

I posted Sleep Cloak because of an incident awhile ago...

Have you ever had to deal with a difficult person, who caused you to handle things badly? What if you knew you would have to deal with this same person multiple times into the future?

If you're like me, you'll be stark mad and frustrated at the same time...

You're mind is active, replaying the situation over and over again, placing blame and figuring-out how things can be done differently. But you can't come up with an immediate solution. So, in your narrow perspective, the problem is magnified ten times. And on top of all that dammed anger and frustration, you still have to play the part of a civil and functioning individual, amongst peers unaware of what you've just been through. So you're feeling a bit hopeless and tired. All you want to do is come back home and snuck under the sheets.

This was the point when I remembered my old poem Sleep Cloak. I was only a bit pensive when I wrote this poem, which was very unlike my mood a few hours ago. Yet the poem fits perfectly.

Alternative Remedies: I walked for quite some time in the mall to release the pent-up energy. I also watched some young ones do hockey. Their play was engrossing; their movements were lithe and graceful; their sportsmanship was evident; and their enjoyment was infectious. I imperceptibly cheered at some of their plays and chuckled amusedly at some of their falls. Watching them felt therapeutic, which goes the same for posting this entry into my blog. Add to that my anticipation for my first IMAX experience, which is upcoming tomorrow with some friends. All of these makes me think of how I've already done a bit of what a Sleep Cloak can do: renew my belief that everything's alright and that I could handle any situation.

Sleep Cloak

Sleep Cloak


Every night
as I go to sleep
I surrender all
that I believe
except the faith
that I am safe
in the four corners
of my bed.

The world can go crazy,
people may die,
but in my sleep,
I will not budge;
I am invincible
and immortal.

I am once more
the little fetus -
enveloped in my
placenta-blanket,
and carressed
in the womb-bed
that carries me
back into the love
of my Earth Mother.

Gone are all my cares.

by Selfshift
Dec 1, 2003

Sagada Day 1: On the Mountain's Bosom

Sagada Journey and Impressions Series

The bus trip from Manila to Banaue entailed 10 hours of cold intermittent sleep. We woke up amidst fogged mountains, unveiled slowly by the sun's fresh lights.

In Banaue, we boarded an ordinary shuttle that journeys direct to Sagada. It was a tourist's ride, replete with stopovers: one at a nearby cafe for breakfast, another at the Banaue viewpoint, and the last one near Batad. Although we were child-like in our delight to wander, little time was spent in these places; they seemed only a taste of things to come, and so we were off to the roads once again.

The roads were rocky, and travel was dusty and grueling, but it was brightened-up by surprising glimpses of small-scale rice terraces, freely nurtured by mountain springs.

I could just picture it: rain water percolating inside the mountains, prying its way, coursing, then trickling out like a bleed from the side. It's all natural and bound to happen. But for me, it's still a marvel.

The shuttle's journey ended at the St. Joseph's resthouse, which was at a slightly-high vantage point...

and there was Sagada in a sweep of the eye....

A trickle of pleasure washed over me. I was glad: Sagada was in no way like industrialized Baguio. The greens were vividly present; the air was fresh, cool, and inviting. It was a clean and small town, nestled ardently on the mountain's bosom.

" majestic fences to the comely rice terraces below "

Lodged at Traveller's Inn and weary from the ride, we all felt the temptation to snooze. But it was lunch time, so we pushed ourselves towards Yogurt House. After a hefty lunch and a little rest, we aimed doggedly towards Bokong, the slightly-famed small waterfall. The locals directed us to a path that led to an assembly of tall pines -- majestic fences to the comely rice terraces below.

We stumbled upon a vacationing family, with a guide who led us through perilously high rip-raps, through a brook, and right in front of the splashing waters of Bokong. The waterfall is indeed small. Its collected water, however, was deep. And it was enticing enough for a swim...

Bokong

Superbly refreshed afterwards, we took the long route back. And here's why I'm proud to have Aidz and Alda as my friends: we noticed the little things and bid our time to appreciate them, like those plants with spires that looked like alien towers, other varieties of plants not normally seen in Manila, curious burns on the barks of pine trees, even monumental stones resembling the ones we saw in a postcard.

Our exploration continued with a visit to Sagada Collections Souvenir Shop and ended with a dinner at Masferre's. Back at the Inn, we spent our time conversing lightheartedly, playing cards repeatedly, and swigging earnestly tapey and bugnay, the local rice and cherry wine. Then we felt it was time for bed.

reverberations of faintly-sensed decrescendos...

I snucked comfortably between the sheets, re-playing contentedly the events of the day and wondering expectantly what surprises tomorrow may bring.

I pleasantly thought myself to sleep.