Women : A Tribute

Women : A Tribute

Like my father before me, I know of no other way than this. I know of no other way to live my life but for my eyes, my lips, every fiber of flesh, bone and soul hungry to worship the glory, one of the finest creations of life: Women.

There have been many moments when I, like my father before, have wondered what have I done, or what am I still to do to be loved by you and your kind since the day my life was a mere spark, all through the days and nights long past, in my glories and madness. And I, just like my father, have often wondered what would be the price for such a love great love that until the last sunset of my eyes I would seek for you, pray for you, love you. And even that I know would not be enough.

What have I done to deserve your love? With what price would I have to pay such a love? These were my questions from long, long ago, and now I know the answer. I could say I knew all along.

I lost your love. This is the answer.

I claim no gift of talent. Nor special privileges. I have lived my life as best as I could figure things out. My thoughts were the one thing I knew that was all mine, and so I went on, deciphering the shapes of the clouds, the whispers of the wind while falling bodies went on circling each other. And through all those times, I have discovered you as you have sheltered me. You presence, warm, at times fiery, gave me the spark to ignite a fire inside of me, to light up the darkness that history and culture have garbed over me, and I rediscovered a passion that most of my own kind have forgotten.

Still, everybody knows how our joining led, inevitably, to partings.

And yet I know of no other way than this, to love you. Pardon me if love is such a small and fragile word. Allow me to use it, not in misuse, but because the word that would suffice has never been uttered or written. Nor do I believe that such a word would ever be born.

I lost you, I lost your love. But never will I lose my love for you. You came, and then you left, and by doing so you completed the circle, and I discovered the shape of my questions, the path for my desires.

All things born die. And among all of them, it is your death, from my senses or I from yours, that pain me like no other. And all that I am left with are the memories of how it was. If only there was another tomorrow, I have always found myself wanting for that, even if I know what foolishness and illusions I make myself vulnerable to by wishing for thus.

Still, that is why I love you. Because as tomorrow may always come after today, you or I, or you and I, might never be there to savor it.

I have known this truth since I was a kid. Forgive me if my pain and my shame have led me to be blind yesterday. But today…. =)

Life has been, and will always be worth savoring because of the memories from each and every moment you shared to me in the past, memories that have been with me even as I speak, and even tomorrow, though I may be silent, listening to the conversations of this world. And though I will not deny the sadness, the despair I sink into, the madness where I find myself comfortable after we have parted, everything was worth it.

Women, I remain your most mortal and human and eternal of lovers.

Thank you.