The Forget-Me-Not

Reflection (Single)
Vocal: Christina Aguilera
Music: Matthew Wilder
Lyrics: David Zippel

Look at me

You may think you see who I really am
But you'll never know me
Ev'ry day
It's as if I play a part
Now I see
If I wear a mask
I can fool the world
But I cannot fool my heart

Who is that girl I see
Staring straight back at me?
When will my reflection show
Who I am inside?

I am now
In a world where I have to hide my heart
And what I believe in
But somehow
I will show the world
What's inside my heart
And be loved for who I am

Who is that girl I see
Staring straight back at me?
Why is my reflection someone I don't know?
Must I pretend that I'm
Someone else for all time?
When will my reflection show
Who I am inside?

There's a heart that must be free to fly
That burns with a need to know the reason why
Why must we all conceal
What we think
How we feel
Must there be a secret me
I'm forced to hide?

I won't pretend that I'm
Someone else
For all time
When will my reflection show
Who I am inside?
When will my reflection show
Who I am inside?


Last night before I went to sleep, I went to my archives of poems and songs I had either composed myself or stored from other sources, to see some connections with the present heartbeats of my life. I always turn to music for serenity, solace and INSPIRATION, as one can then see the beauty and purity and charity that flowed from the composers' hearts. Naturally, effortlessly, swimmingly because what he heArt feels, it shows through flowery words, rhythm and rhyme.

I normally reserved such reflections for the weekend, but there are times for XXceptions, I've said, and today it's one of those times when life's beats are not cast in stone, but weAved by the moments that visit for a ReAson, for a SeAson, seldom for a Lifetime. Because time changes, circumstances change, and even an individual's fortune changes.

That's the ReAson why I featured "ReAson, SeAson and a Lifetime"last Sunday because it sounded so true in the lessons on Life as I reflected on what's going on in the country's events, and my own journey through it; and there are cross-holdings weAved around the two. The lessons contained within the short summary of the types of people you meet on The Good Earth resonate with my heartbeats.

As I told mGf fRiend Yan, I graduated from counting the number of friends I had from two hands' fingers to now slowly numbering the toes, as I believe I have won some new ones by reAching out of the windows of cyber-windows, and not staying indoors reflecting within the windmills of my mind. Should I reach the last small toe before I move on on breathing my second last breath, I would count myself LUCKY, to reAch TWENTY Lifetimes.

It's because of the politics that appeared "unacceptable" to some mates who had then left for foreign shores.
But there are others who have stayed behind in dear Malaysia to fight another day.
There's no Right or Wrong in their decisions -- it's really one of Personal Choice, sometimes compulsory actions taken at excruciating crossroads in an individual's life, as Sabrina Tan has said a few times in her writings.

But also for Desi we harbour the Forget-Me-Nots in our lives.
The land of multi-cultural mixes in dance, food and song.
The strange mix of Indian, Malay, Chinese, Nonya and Iban, and Kadazan, foods whether by the roadside stalls, or in the posh hotels or restaurants.
And most important of all, in the Faces and Places when once we stood under the fruit or merely blooming trees singing sones, or at night whispering Sweet Nothings At All.

However, We'll always have to sacrifice some Forget-Me-Nots in our lives.
Whether in persons close at hand, or faraway; those still kicking and alive, and those who had passed on and now some six feet underground.

We see reflections occasionally in our recollections, of people and events,customs and traditions, swirling past us in moments of deep wondering -- asking: Did we decide the right line of moving on at all?


I wish to treAsure the humble
Forget-Me-Not.

When to the flowers so beautiful
The Father gave a name,
Back came a little blue-eyed one
(All timely it came);
And standing at its Father's feet,
And gazing in His face,
It said in low and trembling tones,
"Dear God, the name Thou gavest me,
Alas! I have forgot."
Then kindly looked the Father down,
And said, "Forget Me Not."

NOTE: The above poem is from an English author unknown.
The next is from someone who has the gall to call himself desiderata2000.

Misty Eyes

as evening falls
yellow, orange, red and blue
streak through yonder hills
my mind wanders
to dew and raindrops by the flowers
sunny beach, campfire and bbQ

i now realise
it was not me
it was you who said adieu
me and my misty eyes
they tell me so
i'm still caught in the haze
of the wonder of you

now feeling like a baby bird
chirping at evening fall
seeking sustenance

maybe tomorrow i'll let go