Embun Pagi

Pagi yang dingin. Dan batang-batang syaraf di otakku yang setengah beku terbata-bata berbisik kepada tungkai leherku supaya memutar posisinya; supaya kedua bola mataku tak perlu berputar demi menyapa jendela bisu di sampingku. Dia memang bisu, tapi kebisuan selalu bisa menyatakan kesungguhan. Dan benar saja. Kulihat barisan rerumputan yang menampakkan kesungguhan mereka hari ini: menolak upacara penyambutan menyongsong mentari. Bersama dengan embun pagi, mereka saling berdekatan merapatkan barisan. Berhimpitan dan bertindihan; merungkut dan menggelayut di setiap ujung rumput.

Perlahan, jariku bergerak lalu mampir ke bibir kaca yang bisu. Kupejamkan mata dan membiarkan jariku menari, merasakan setiap dingin dan kebekuan di ujung jari. Tak ingin berhenti, hingga kemudian kudengar gema kesunyiannya yang mengalun indah di telinga. Kudekatkan bibirku. Dan kubiarkan ia menyecap tetes embun yang mengkerayapi kebisuan. Dinginnya tak tertahankan, seperti bunga es yang menutupi ujung-ujung syaraf lidah dan membuatnya patah. Hingga tak mampu lagi ia merangkai kata-kata; bahkan yang paling sederhana. Aku menarik nafas panjang. Kata-kata penggambar rasa memang tak pernah sederhana.

Dan pikiranku yang setengah beku pun mencoba untuk merangkak ke belakang, menghinggapi langit semalam yang penuh kesedihan. Sedari senja langit telah menurunkan tirai gelapnya dan seketika itu pula tiba-tiba panggung banjir air mata. Tak ada lagi sandiwara. Tak ada lagi tepuk tangan, meninggalkan penonton-penonton yang menggigil kedinginan. Hingga akhirnya fajar menjelang dan bayang kaki pun menjenjang.

Pagi ini, tak nampak bunga bakung yang biasanya menebar wangi. Tak terlihat cericit burung yang sibuk bernyanyi. Tak muncul pula rama-rama yang sibuk menyedot madu muda kembang tetangga. Tak banyak yang bisa kulihat hari ini, pandanganku terhalang tirai kabut putih yang tebal. Bukan, ... warna kabut bukan putih; tapi pedih. Karena ke arah sana kamu pergi.

Dengan berat, deru nafasku yang hangat mulai menghapus jejak tari jemari. Dan perlahan-lahan tirai pun menggulung, menyisakan kabut tipis yang membubung lalu lenyap ditelan hari. Dan saat itulah mataku terbuka.

Selamat pagi.

©wulliewullie.blogspot.com

Answers Unquestioned

If someday you ask me a question about life
I can say you don’t have to wait until next time
Cause I can answer it now

If you someday ask me a question about love
Let me whisper in your ear a thing you don’t want to hear
And I can whisper it right here

That I do not know
And will never know
‘Cause it’s your life, and it’s your love
It’s you and only you to decide

If I answer it differently
It will only be a lie
And if I answer it properly
Would it lessen why?

No, that is not what I think
Cause life keeps changing
Where inconsistency is a thing
That makes you a living

If you ask me about life in question
I would ask you back in gently:
What’s with answers unquestioned?

For Titan, my satelite

©wulliewullie.blogspot.com

running in circle

i’m running in circle
being my own spectacle
as well as the spectator
spinning over and over

i’m running in circle
the world of twist and twirl
swiveling, revolving like a never end
submerging myself to the deepest lane

hello and goodbye
forward and backward
am and pm
resemble as the same

© www.wulliewullie.blogspot.com

what's with limit? either you jump it over or back off. ... and the math is fucking easy.

a possible hero

It was a cold night. I raced against thunder in the dark, heading home. The rain busily cheering us and didn’t care at all who would win as long as she could cheer out her repressed feelings. It was 2 am and the night was freezing and mute. There was only me and my wandering mind. As I reached the fence of my house, I saw someone was standing beneath an umbrella. I could not believe my eyes, for I thought it was only my imagination of a ghost people talked about. But hey, he moved as he noticed it was my car that was coming. He opened up the fence so I could get in. As I passed the man, the foggy window pane gave me a silhouette of someone I know. It was my father, shivering in the cold rainy night just to open up the fence for me at 2 o’clock in the morning.

That night was about ten years ago, when I was in my early days of working in advertising industry.

And it was not for the first, or the last time. He still does. Even now I’m thirty, married with one kid; he has always been the one who last stands for me. Literally, physically, and emotionally. When everyone pulls themselves back on me because of my stubbornness, he is the even more stubborn person I know who understand me. I might be hate him sometimes, but I love him most of the times. He is the closest person yet a stranger for me.

My father is a mean and strict figure. He never knew his mom; she died when he was two. He was meant to be a pilot. But when he was about to finish his 600 hours flight-hours to graduate, he quit and joined the police academy (no, not the one on the movie). I never know why he decided a major maneuver at that time. But my guess is that his passion in fishing pushed him to make the decision, and however led him to be the best police-water officer I ever knew.

My father is not a great father. But I can say he is a capable one. And that is what I love about him. He never gives me what I want. He gives me what I need. He is the one who introduced me new things in life. He taught me how to swim and intentionally drown me down the pool just to show me one fact that I needed to know how it feels to be drowning in order to be a good swimmer. He taught me math ‘till I slept away in front of the whiteboard. He taught me how to pray. He taught me how to read Qur’an and listened to every word I pronounced. He told me stories before bed (although he made it up his own and most of them were not interesting). He guided me to pray when I fell off from my bed and cried. He taught me to ride a bike, to drive (with hands on 10 and 2 o’clock position), he introduced me to champagne and smoke when I was in kindergarten (this is why I don’t really drink and I totally don’t smoke), he brought us Penthouse, Playboy and Hustler and let us read and know about porn right in front of his eyes, he is the one who taught me to keep my promise (and I still learn about it), he is the one who taught me to do anything I want as long as it is still in my capacity, he is the one who told me that cheating on exam is fine, he taught me not to ask for something but rather give something, he personally asked me to take care of myself by not getting pregnant before marriage, he made me a strong girl (yet a mushy ones), he let me fall and get up by myself, he taught me about passion in life: that we should have at least one thing we love to do the most; so we will not be lonesome in the future. And he surely got one: FISHING! Now i know why he quit flying and choose diving instead ;p

I do not believe in superhero, but to me my father is a possible hero. Maybe because he never try to be great, instead he always try to be capable. His birthday is around the corner. 64. What would be the best present?

© www.wulliewullie.blogspot.com

Photography by Lilya, www.kembangbakung.wordpress.com

what's in my bag today?

Just another bags!
colorful make-up bag, black flowery sanitary napkins bag, korean painting wallet, eye glasses, vitamin e, wet tissue and a BB kid spray cologne (kiwi & mellon scent. Pretty handy, since i left my laptop, sennheiser earphone and various chargers at home :)

Bintang Jatuh

Aku ingin terbang, itulah mengapa aku tak habisnya mencinta bintang. Setiap malam aku hanya bisa menatap tanpa pernah bisa menyapa. Inginkah kamu mengenal bahasanya? Kelip yang disampaikan satu bintang begitu jelas hingga dijawab bintang lain di semesta jagat. Terkadang tabir halus di angkasa pun bermurah hati, membiarkanku melihat mereka menari membentuk satu konstelasi.

Dan saat itu, aku tidak peduli lagi apa itu surga. Tentang sungai susu yang mengalir, tentang tujuh puluh bidadari perawan yang menunggu untuk digilir. Aku tak peduli. Aku mungkin tak percaya. Di sini, Aku sedang menemukan surgaku. Di bawah bentang bintang yang bercakap riang. Dan saat tabir gelap memutuskan untuk menjadi begitu pekat, aku hanya mampu menggeliat dan berharap ini hanyalah satu dari ribuan malam yang tak perlu diingat.

Aku bukan malaikat. Aku tidak punya sayap lebar yang siap mengantarku ke langit ke tujuh. Dan doaku tak sepanjang untaian asmaNYA yang tak henti dilafalkan semesta. Tapi aku selalu ingin tahu bagaimana rasanya di atas sana. Dan selalu berharap satu bintang akan menjelma.

* * *

Suaraku habis. Setiap pekik membuatku tercekik hingga mataku mendelik. Tak pakai ancang-ancang, tiba-tiba aku menderu kencang. Membelah langit dengan wajah sengit. Hanya awan-awan lembut itu yang menyambut, dan merekalah yang menyapu kalut.

Aku terjatuh.

* * *

Aku tak percaya. Satu bintang menjelma dan ia memanggilku Bunda.

* * *

Aku takut. Aku bergelimang dalam kalut. Aku asing. Aku pusing. Aku panik. Aku menangis sampai tenggorokanku tercekik. Siapa dia yang sedang memelukku? Bola matanya begitu kecil, namun bayangan di permukaannya yang bening terlihat begitu besar. Aku tidak tahu apa yang terjadi. Aku tidak mengenal itu dan ini. Namun ia berjanji untuk mengajari, di suatu saat nanti.

* * *

“Selamat tidur Titan”
©wulliewullie.blogspot.com