i don't wanna bore you with... knocks me off my feet

Why does the sea laugh, Mother
As it glints beneath the sun?

This verse of the poem The Sea by Natividad Marquez always comes to me whenever there’s an unanswered question in my mind. Why does the sea laugh, Mother? A child asks his mother about the sea and the mother answers him in the next stanza. I encountered the poem when I was in the 4th or 5th grade and I don’t really know why it sticks with me. I was not a very inquisitive child. Until now, whenever I have some questions, I would rather seek the books or the internet first before asking anyone for the answers. I’m close to my mother but I am not really the sort who asks questions unless it’s a matter of life and death.

It is thinking of the joys, my child
That it wishes everyone.

And it’s not that my mother’s not ready to answer questions. It’s more like I can’t say it. Perhaps that is why I like writing fiction and blogging. I’d rather put my thoughts into written words than say it out loud.

Why does the sea sob so, Mother
As it breaks on the rocky shore?

Ok then don’t go out with me. I’m such a bore.

It recalls the sorrows of the world,
And weeps forever more.

But this is not saying that all who blogs are like me. I know some talkative, flamboyant people who blog as well.

Why is the see so peaceful, Mother
As if it were fast asleep?

I used to keep a journal when I was in highschool up to before I learned about using the internet. My accumulated journals was a stack of notebooks and binder fillers i used to keep in an old gift box. There were about 9 notebooks and lots of binder fillers. I actually kept the box in a drawer of my old study table that my niece is now using (as she now has my old bedroom). Due to high risks that she might read it, I burned the notebooks last month. I actually re-read some before burning them, and oh boy, the worries of a child! I didn't really wanna get rid of them, but thinking that people might know my innermost thoughts and secrets through it (after I'm gone or even before that), I chose to burn them.

It would give our hearts, dearest child
The comfort of the deep.

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