Nostalgia

It's amazing how I remember everything sweet and wonderful when I feel like I want to cry buckets of tears.

Those moments in a peaceful, faraway town, when I spent my idle time in a quiet chapel
which smelled like a bouquet of flowers on top of a basket of fruits.
Feeling so serene... so quiet... I could even hear myself breathe.

The moment when I visited a monastery and the prayers chanted by monks
brought me to a place I've always wanted to visit but didn't know how
or when.

The moments when I sat among the serene trees
at the garden inside the school campus just in front of the retreat house,
where only the image of Our Lady accompanied me in silence,
while I reflected on my past and imagined my future.

The moments when I stood by the window on the third floor of the school library,
staring at the leaves of trees dancing gracefully with the tune of the soft, cool breeze
inviting me to listen to something so beautiful,
yet inaudible.

The moments when I knelt at the university chapel after choosing the least conspicuous place,
so nobody could disturb me as I listen to the chirping of the birds,
oblivious to all the cares of college life and of the world.

The moments when I stayed in the classroom or walked along the campus corridors during an ordinary tropical rain,
staring at the droplets of water washing the dust off the leaves of trees,
feeling so refreshed... so new!

The moments when I sat alone in the car, hidden from the indifferent eyes of friends and acquaintances,
crying buckets of tears.

Ah!...now I remember. I do know how to cry buckets of tears.