Bahasa yang bernama Cinta

Percakapan antara kau dan aku, yang saling mengutarakan dengan ikhlas, keberadaan diri, dan menerima maka kita sepaham, maka kita dalam satu bahasa yang bernama Cinta

ikhlas dengan memahami betul makna atas segala perbuatan, ucapan, ide juga segala hal yang tercipta

proses dalam menjalani melalui beberapa pemahaman hingga menuju satu pemahaman

banyak pilihan juga berbeda pilihan tiap kita diberikan kebebasan memilih

semua itu dimaknai maka baru akan ikhlas setelah itu timbul kesadaraan akan keberadaan diri dan kitapun bisa menerima

ikhlas melalui sebuah proses

disampaikan melalui bahasa yang bernama Cinta

Kenikmatan kehidupan antara kau dan aku, sepaham dalam bahasa yang bernama Cinta

Jendela Hatiku

Aku melihat sebuah pemandangan indah melalui dirimu

terasa begitu akrab denganku

terimakasih atas ceritamu yang kau bagi bersamaku

* Ungkapan diatas adalah sebuah bentuk syukur dan rasa terimakasih atas segala pengalaman hidup      yang selama ini para saudara dan para sahabat telah berbagi denganku sungguh indah dan berharga :)

sekarang aku ingin mendengar cerita kalian, apapun itu, boleh yang kalian sudah lalui atau rencana kalian di tahun ini, Boleh sharing disini lewat comment atau lewat DM twitter

Terimakasih semua!

Perjumpaan yang singkat dengan si Kuro

Kuro, dalam bahasa Jepang artinya hitam

teman baruku yang satu ini

aku menemukannya di dalam kerang

di pesisir pantai Kukup

ketika aku berjalan menyusuri pantai kulihat ada makhluk mungil ini sedang bersantai diatas kerang

seakan dia mengajakku berkenalan

akhirnya kumasukkan dia ke dalam ember biru yg kubeli dari pedagang lokal yang berlomba lomba menjual ember kecilnya

memang tidak ada yang kebetulan di hidup ini

Kuro dan aku terasa dekat sekali

walau dia tak bersuara, tak berupa, namun aku selalu senang didekatnya

Kuro mengajarkanku mengenai arti "Keheningan"

didalam hidup ini di titik tertentu dalam hidup ini aku merasakan tenangnya keheningan, bahagia dari segala hal kecil yang penuh rasa syukur dalam menjalaninya

perasaan seperti itulah yang aku rasakan ketika bertemu Kuro, betapa aku ini beruntung sekali bisa menjalani kehidupan aku yang sekarang

''Lembayung Senja"

Menari di dalam kehangatan
melihat tubuh ini berwarna jingga
berbayang lembut gerakan jariku mencoba meraih hangat yang mulai tenggelam

Disini kudengar bisikan langit yang bersukacita
ksatria emasku telah tiba
memberikan kehangatan dalam nyanyiannya

Ia menunjukkan hamparan luas yang memaparkan Keagungan Tuhan
hanya kita sajalah yang kini tak jemu jemu menatapnya
merasakan jingga yang hangat diatas biru yang tentram

Sorot matanya bagai busur yang membelah samudra
melintasi penjuru antara bumi dan langit
menjadi jingga yang hangat diatas biru yang tentram

Didalam tarian ini aku selalu bersenandung
ksatria emasku menyambut tarianku
seiring langkah kita menyatu dalam jingga yang hangat diatas biru yang tentram

Dibalik perbincangan kita

“Apakah ini menjadi hidupku nantinya? kebahagiaan?” seringkali aku bertanya, banyak juga jawabannya, namun sedikit banyak yang sesuai dengan hatiku. Disitu keraguan muncul, “benarkah? Haruskah?” kadang akhirnya menjadi sebuah kewajiban, dan alhasil, terlahir lagi pertanyaan yang sama “Apakah ini menjadi hidupku nantinya? kebahagiaan?”

Sering kali pikiranku  mengangkasa dan tak kembali, memang aku akui diri ini selalu melambung tinggi bersamannya, juga merasa sendiri karena hanya aku seorang diri yang merasakannya namun saat ini, aku menemukan..

Seorang yang punya cerita, juga ikut mengangkasa

Kita bicara

Kita sepaham

Kita merasakan

Kita Hidup

Kebahagiaan?

Seperti apa?

Seperti yang kamu dan aku bayangkan

Seperti yang kita berdua wujudkan

Seperti yang sudah tercipta untuk kita

Kebahagiaan kita

Kebebasan dalam Jiwamu juga Jiwaku

Menyatu menjadi

Kebahagiaan kita

setelah hari itu.. "aku" menjadi tiada

kita menjadi semesta

The Graveyard by the Sea, Paul Valery

This quiet roof, where dove-sails saunter by,
Between the pines, the tombs, throbs visibly.
Impartial noon patterns the sea in flame --
That sea forever starting and re-starting.
When thought has had its hour, oh how rewarding
Are the long vistas of celestial calm!
What grace of light, what pure toil goes to form
The manifold diamond of the elusive foam!
What peace I feel begotten at that source!
When sunlight rests upon a profound sea,
Time's air is sparkling, dream is certainty --
Pure artifice both of an eternal Cause.

Sure treasure, simple shrine to intelligence,
Palpable calm, visible reticence,
Proud-lidded water, Eye wherein there wells
Under a film of fire such depth of sleep --
O silence! . . . Mansion in my soul, you slope
Of gold, roof of a myriad golden tiles.

Temple of time, within a brief sigh bounded,
To this rare height inured I climb, surrounded
By the horizons of a sea-girt eye.
And, like my supreme offering to the gods,
That peaceful coruscation only breeds
A loftier indifference on the sky.

Even as a fruit's absorbed in the enjoying,
Even as within the mouth its body dying
Changes into delight through dissolution,
So to my melted soul the heavens declare
All bounds transfigured into a boundless air,
And I breathe now my future's emanation.

Beautiful heaven, true heaven, look how I change!
After such arrogance, after so much strange
Idleness -- strange, yet full of potency --
I am all open to these shining spaces;
Over the homes of the dead my shadow passes,
Ghosting along -- a ghost subduing me.
My soul laid bare to your midsummer fire,
O just, impartial light whom I admire,

Whose arms are merciless, you have I stayed
And give back, pure, to your original place.
Look at yourself . . . But to give light implies
No less a somber moiety of shade.

Oh, for myself alone, mine, deep within
At the heart's quick, the poem's fount, between
The void and its pure issue, I beseech
The intimations of my secret power.
O bitter, dark, and echoing reservoir
Speaking of depths always beyond my reach.

But know you -- feigning prisoner of the boughs,
Gulf which cats up their slender prison-bars,
Secret which dazzles though mine eyes are closed --
What body drags me to its lingering end,
What mind draws it to this bone-peopled ground?
A star broods there on all that I have lost.

Closed, hallowed, full of insubstantial fire,
Morsel of earth to heaven's light given o'er --
This plot, ruled by its flambeaux, pleases me --
A place all gold, stone, and dark wood, where shudders
So much marble above so many shadows:
And on my tombs, asleep, the faithful sea.

Keep off the idolaters, bright watch-dog, while --
A solitary with the shepherd's smile --
I pasture long my sheep, my mysteries,
My snow-white flock of undisturbed graves!
Drive far away from here the careful doves,
The vain daydreams, the angels' questioning eyes!

Now present here, the future takes its time.
The brittle insect scrapes at the dry loam;
All is burnt up, used up, drawn up in air
To some ineffably rarefied solution . . .
Life is enlarged, drunk with annihilation,
And bitterness is sweet, and the spirit clear.

The dead lie easy, hidden in earth where they
Are warmed and have their mysteries burnt away.
Motionless noon, noon aloft in the blue
Broods on itself -- a self-sufficient theme.
O rounded dome and perfect diadem,


I am what's changing secretly in you.

I am the only medium for your fears.
My penitence, my doubts, my baulked desires --
These are the flaw within your diamond pride . . .
But in their heavy night, cumbered with marble,
Under the roots of trees a shadow people
Has slowly now come over to your side.
To an impervious nothingness they're thinned,
For the red clay has swallowed the white kind;
Into the flowers that gift of life has passed.
Where are the dead? -- their homely turns of speech,
The personal grace, the soul informing each?
Grubs thread their way where tears were once composed.

The bird-sharp cries of girls whom love is teasing,
The eyes, the teeth, the eyelids moistly closing,
The pretty breast that gambles with the flame,
The crimson blood shining when lips are yielded,
The last gift, and the fingers that would shield it --
All go to earth, go back into the game.

And you, great soul, is there yet hope in you
To find some dream without the lying hue
That gold or wave offers to fleshly eyes?
Will you be singing still when you're thin air?
All perishes. A thing of flesh and pore
Am I. Divine impatience also dies.

Lean immortality, all crêpe and gold,
Laurelled consoler frightening to behold,
Death is a womb, a mother's breast, you feign
The fine illusion, oh the pious trick!
Who does not know them, and is not made sick
That empty skull, that everlasting grin?

Ancestors deep down there, 0 derelict heads
Whom such a weight of spaded earth o'erspreads,
Who are the earth, in whom our steps are lost,
The real flesh-eater, worm unanswerable
Is not for you that sleep under the table:
Life is his meat, and I am still his host.

'Love,' shall we call him? 'Hatred of self,' maybe?
His secret tooth is so intimate with me
That any name would suit him well enough,
Enough that he can see, will, daydream, touch --
My flesh delights him, even upon my couch
I live but as a morsel of his life.

Zeno, Zeno, cruel philosopher Zeno,
Have you then pierced me with your feathered arrow
That hums and flies, yet does not fly! The sounding
Shaft gives me life, the arrow kills. Oh, sun! --
Oh, what a tortoise-shadow to outrun
My soul, Achilles' giant stride left standing!

No, no! Arise! The future years unfold.
Shatter, O body, meditation's mould!
And, O my breast, drink in the wind's reviving!
A freshness, exhalation of the sea,
Restores my soul . . . Salt-breathing potency!
Let's run at the waves and be hurled back to living!

Yes, mighty sea with such wild frenzies gifted
(The panther skin and the rent chlamys), sifted
All over with sun-images that glisten,
Creature supreme, drunk on your own blue flesh,
Who in a tumult like the deepest hush
Bite at your sequin-glittering tail -- yes, listen!

The wind is rising! . . . We must try to live!
The huge air opens and shuts my book: the wave
Dares to explode out of the rocks in reeking
Spray. Fly away, my sun-bewildered pages!
Break, waves! Break up with your rejoicing surges
This quiet roof where sails like doves were pecking. 

Bagaimana yang semustinya?

Air mengalir
Pohon berdiri menempatkan dirinya di siklus kehidupan
Air menjadi air, Pohon menjadi pohon
begitulah adanya
Apakah kau, aku, dia begitu juga adanya?