Wat Er F all

I went to Sungai Pisang hidden waterfall with friends yesterday. I wanted to blog about it yesterday but I found it difficult to describe something that totally pulls out the reality that binds my sense of relativity. I guess that's why people write and read poems because there are some experience that's best described by granting plausible voids.

Frog infested tunnels, impossible steps, riverbends with pulling current, spiked shrubs and prickly highway heat.

Moist frog skin, reaching leeches, crumbling rocks, the journey teach us.

Washing sounds, chirping birds, nesting bees, the destination meet us.

Sheltered sky, raining leafs, climbing branches, the wind heave us.

Icy water, slippery rocks, clean sand, tranquil current, nature's pieces.

Climbing peaks, hesitating, "death is in God's hands"

Resting fate on the mercy of gravity, holding breath, clasping palms.

Gasping for air, air, air, red stinging palms.

Higher peaks, higher, higher, even redder palms,

"Cukuplah tu Afiq! Ko budget ko ni Tarzan ke hape?"

"Tinggi-tinggi sangat ni ko ni baik bawak mengucap!"

shouts a friend from below.

"I don't care." Afiq adopts an Indian accent.

Another drop of destiny, stinging palms, red palms.

The journey back, whizzing traffic, smiling bus drivers, waving japanese tourists.

"We were young once." they beam and smile and wave.

And reminisce.