Beanstalk

If I am not the first one to adore of what this summer brings, I pray I am not the last. The existence of man should have been full of meanings if all would have defined Creation a whole of one’s life. He who thinks of God’s gift and loves it will he be given a reward of a pathway for the good,both for himself and his beloved.

Mementoes cast as a shadow on this backyard where I have been counting these plants as courses of my will to teach my destiny. Yes, I remember the time I was most worried of Twinkle, our big dog, while I was planting beans here, was here around me jumping innocently on this plot and soon the sprouts would be a mess after a week.

I remember my greatest fear would be finding the he, the dog, has betrayed my principles in the significance of beanstalk to my life, with her, to our lives.

I remember how I started to plant. With thoughts of missing her, I began to wound the half-wet bosom of the soil. Earthworms were awakened and surprised from their deep slumber. Some got out and helplessly went away. I felt their complaints from attacking the calmness of their world. Perhaps, if they were humans, my life would have been in danger. Or perhaps, they would have understood me and shared this small area of lot- for here and there far out, they own this large land unlike me.

I recall the busy days nurturing the lushness of this green. While I woke up in the early morning, before going to school, I had been towards here to see what my love and care had brought unto them. After classes, I had to rush home to fix their stalks and vines. I found out that they also needed to be taught to where they supposed to climb, to have a better fence enough for them to reach. Yes, I found out that they must be given pesticides to keep their soft leaves away from wrinkles and holes.

Today, I am gathering their fruits. I am proud of the things I enterprisingly tried. I feel how this foggy horizon shakes my heart in praise. Twinkle is beside me, too- jovially wagging his tail underneath these thick leaves over me now which once desired of bearing fruits have sought to reality.

To all these, I commence to see the green’s comfort and satisfaction.

Like these beanstalks, I begin to feel what love and care had brought. I also begin to prove myself must have sought a dream possible to reach and gather its fruits. There is only one thing to keep me on the go, to reap the seeds I have sown. I must go to my loved one’s home. She must have granted my plans and we shall be the beanstalks in bloom.

For he who thinks of God’s gift and loves it will be given a reward of a pathway, both for himself and his beloved.