random recollections on a warm spring day-

back where i belong

a distant song returning gladness as trees stand grateful, sensing a mynah's call in the morning, while a stray rests, watchful for friends as temperate coral-blue skies bestow coolness, and quiets the evening. green coasts bring tidings scented with an old tang of salt- sudden distilled tastes airing a roomful of loss, spoken in restive and humid language- contouring shorelines of memory where sampans, iced tea, date palms, wild boar, hibiscus and attap re-trace ready maps on the mind.

sights i miss, and missing.

unfinished chapters- pulau ubin, singapore

In solitude, we discover that being is more important that having, and that we are worth more than the result of our efforts. In solitude we discover that our life is not a possession to be defended, but a gift to be shared. It’s there we recognize that the healing words we speak are not just our own, but are given to us; that the love we express is part of a greater love; and that the new life we bring forth is not a property to cling to but a gift to be received.
Henry Nouwen



Normal day,
let me be aware of the treasure you are.
Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow.

befriending death and
into life

lay my brother to sleep
my faithful brother-abbot and friend
i will watch the sun for you, cast longer days into the past
as you sing your song of faith
and live into my heart.

in memory of fr. kevin o'farrell (1919-2006), trappist monk,
first abbot of tarrawarra abbey, australia. (cisterican.org.au)






ordained as priest,
to serve humanity
your total family.
sharing Christ best not
through word but by example.
fidelity in heart, compassion in touch and gentleness
in a smile...apostle of your own weakness becoming strength
everytime you kneel, everytime we pray.

Ordination of Deacon Ngyuen Xuan Thinh
into Priesthood. 16 Sept. 2006, St Patrick's Cathedral.





there is a green blue day which kave the horse came and crunched a red apple from your hands. the sweetness of encounters. fruit juice sparkles in sun. joe's crayon sketch for joe while molly paints many more windows 'in my Father's house.' ice-cream scones and a little candle to remember our birth for the days which we blossom in grace. cloudsong & meadows, flowers to forget the rain.





Sunday Gospel 8 Oct. 2006: Mark 10:14-16

Let the little children come to me; do not prevent them for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these...then Jesus embraced and blessed them, placing his hands on them

highlights of an ordinary day and a study-break:

(a) olive motifs

i. lunching on smoked trout fresh spinach with peppers, olives, tomatos, chives, cheese and pita bread while the wild wind beats cold on windowpanes. a thin slice of glass defining what it means to be cosy while the rest of the city sits still in spring rain.

ii. My table sprawled with fragments of unreasonably thick readings and seasoned drafts. i struggle to hold an absent intellect as the pink flesh of smoked fish slips out of sandwich, scenting theories and case studies with a quick drizzle of olive oil.






















(b) tails and raisins - a mean and successful dish. a glorious pot of stewed oxtail with potatos, peas, carrots, raisins, port and red wine. it came about from a mishmash 7 minutes of research on the internet. handcopied and mixed to the brim. secret lies in sitting the casserole overnight, then heat it over low flame again, allowing port and wine to soak deep. a morsel of meat falling effortlessly, off a fork. thick broth and comfort food, richness of wine, morsels of deep goodness from the pan.

(c) eastern surrender- i wanted to step beyond stacks of notes and transcend all the useless prose that says little and delivers nothing. another pretensious use of alphabets, save the few lines of gem that sealed and polished a noteworthy point.