Predation in the valley.

In the vast world, there is a valley which one must avoid. The moment one gets drawn into this valley, or rather, dragged hard into this abyss, the first thing he ought to so do is to get out of it immediately.

This valley is home to both the predators and preys of the world. The predators, with their resounding pride and prowess, roam around the valley like it is theirs. They know the valley's beaten paths as well as its smooth roads; they know every inch of its vastness, probably due to their lengthy, overdue stay. With one look, they can discern the preys from their fellow predators. They are the knowledgeable ones, the experts, the sagacious players.

Then there are the preys, the newcomers in the valley. They have come from places of different sorts, and, seeing the greenest pastures in this mysterious valley, wished to have a glimpse of what's inside. They eagerly found their way in, for the road is easy and very enticing. But alas! In their arrival, they begin to get lost. They wonder: Why is the inside quite different from what they expected? How did their high hopes about the valley lead to disappointments? They are prey to the predators' sharp canine.

Both the predator and prey roam around the valley, though they walk in different paces -- the predators swift and sharp, the preys careful and shaky. Soon the predators would cross paths with the preys, and thus marks the beginning of a harrowing journey these poor preys have to go through.

This valley bears witness to a vicious cycle of predation in this land. There is continous bloodshed, with the preys bleeding to death for the predators' sake. The preys are sacrificial lambs, nourishment to the predators as well as to the unmerciful soil.

This is the reality about life in this valley -- it corrupts the innocent in order to satisfy the masters. And yet, almost magically, the preys choose to remain. What is with this valley, that the preys altruistically stay, even at the expense of themselves? I wonder.

And I wonder hard about this because hard as it is to admit, I think I might be the mentioned prey.

Sun and moon.

As the sun continually chases the moon,
so do I continually chase after you.

And as the moon continually flees from the sun,
so do you continually flee from me.

On sunrise and happy mornings.

I am not a morning person. Most days, I consider getting out of bed one of the toughtest things to do.

But in the province, I had no choice but to wake up early, since everyone gets up early too. And then I thought to myself, how I wish I were a morning person. Because the sunrise is... simply amazing.

Mornings are beautiful. It's as if in the cool breeze mixed by the sun's heat, God's voice resounds.

Top: Sunrise by lola's bedroom (Agkawayan, Occidental Mindoro)
Bottom: Sunrise by the boat (Calatagan, Batangas)

From the rising of the sun to its setting,
let the name of the Lord be praised. Psalm 113:3