Pieces of Moonbeams

CXLVIII: a boy who's as little as me

i.

one simple act of kindness
a person can give off to other people
was the kindness in little things. a kindness
that was innate on your being
like a child giving a candy
to another kid.

when one soul exudes warmth
in the space you are also in:
you also want to exist in the space that
they had created. for one's being reflects a kindness
upon one another
when you are kind
to others too...

whenever you experience small portions of kindness of
kindness that the world has yet
to offer you someday,
i'd like for you to list and write it clearly
in a curly-wave crests of your notebook
as you swing your hands
on its grids and edges and flesh displaying
letters which paint love—
or in a blank sheet
of paper wherein eternity ceases to let the light
swallow fragmentary moments
we dailed to keep intact in
modest poems like this one--
or just tuck it away
within your heart
that's brimmed
of lovely things. :">

ii.

'twas a hot blazing day--when i am rushing
home—while having a long walk on top
of cement-tiles amid the isle of the crowd:
i halt a moment & hop in for a ride
on a good man's tricycle.
it was partly cloudy at noon.
the rain was shy & holding back to pour
its sands to the roof of the buildings.

a little boy also hop in swiftly for a
smack of a ride. all my tension for
rushing moments was gone for a while.

the ingenue cheeks of the boy smiles as he says,
"kuya sa ubas road po." i have noticed that
we have the same destination
on the map of the earth:
except for that i was 15 miles
ahead of him and my path is zigzagged & crooked
to the core but not zippered from a straight road.

i pave the way for my unmapped
horizon--i was not travelling at the
center of the world.

as we traverse half-way, i left a mark on the linings
of the side road's crosswalk. .. my mouth came
to a sudden cease
in birthing raw dialogues with
a little kid—i think i mirrored
a reflection of myself
when he smiled

whilst i click that white circle on my touchscreen
to save a picture sewn into a memory
with his face leaning & eyes
smiling inward--

his dark-brown iris blurred an illusion that
as a child--everything in

the world was beautiful

while i'm in epiphany—he tilts his head sideways
out of quickness when he
uprear soft words
for the driver and tell cheerfully
where is his home and
what is the scenery
when he heads home.

he stopped talking and sit for a while--
facing half-way the side of the landscape
of supple grasses & pale skies overhead.

he raise his arms when his home was near.
he's about to slip coins from his pockets
but abruptly the driver make him free-of-charge
as he have the same destination as mine... he hops out the trike and didn't
bid goodbye. but looks back for us at the
sides of his periphery.

iii.

it was then a flaring afternoon—
i was languidly sitting on my desk, when
i remembered this fragment
i always draped in my memory...
when feathers of my friends fondle
their hands on my transparent envelope
where pieces of little
chocolate-dips & three tiny-teaspoons
linger inside. i gave three pieces
for the three of them

maybe i'll treat you
a cone of ice cream
when i return home.

September 13, 2023
von frederick, a boy who's as little as me