I rummaged through my "red-tin-can-of-memories" this afternoon and came across this letter sent to me by "Beastie". As anyone hungry for sentiments, I read through the letter and relive the same feeling I was having when I first received it. Beastie is one of the few who knows and understand me well enough to be a best friend (thus, 'Beastie'), though we do not meet with each other that much. By now, she's on the realization of her dreams, "magturo ng mga bata sa kanayunan". Our communication now are limited to letters that bears no date for it not to be limited and enclosed by time (actually, letters are hand-carried and received weeks or even months after sending).
Though her letter was hand-written on pages taken from a writing notebook, it looks computerized with an Arial, sized 8 font. I used to teased her with that. She included this poem she said she thought whenever she finds herself in wondrous places (to the point of being magical) in the portion of space occupied by her small figure - wherever she is by now. Beastie memorized the poem by heart though she forgot where did she encountered the poem and from whom.
The poem says;
Father, where do giants go to cry?
To the hills,
Behind the thunder,
Or to the waterfall?
I wonder.
Giants cry,
I know they do
wondering, saan nga ba? wheee, Do they wait
'Til nighttime, too?
--anonymus
There it goes. So full of childhood innocence and wonderment. Beastie is right. Giants do cry... they have to.... And yeah, even an invictus needs a respite.
