CUBE YOUR KNOWN FATHER

in #writing6 years ago

image

I stared at the jellyfish dancing along with the cheerfulness on the beach to the sound of the melodious music of the beach waves of my town of Probolinggo. Dark black sand beach attached intimately affectionate, then kududuki black sand. The rustling of the sand sounded pitiful, the sand moaning in pain as I sat, ignoring the moan of the sadness of the sand. Enjoy the beauty of the sea that bluish water radiates rays shining eyes. The sails of the boats expanding, the diesel sounds challenging is clearly audible, the fishermen scavenging rizki at night in the ocean.

I was astounded by the beautiful view of the glamor full of charm that left a thousand memories under the clouds over the wide expanse of sand on the land. The sand is a silent witness between the strokes of destiny that sliced ​​the heart into a nil, I grabbed the black sand I sat on, I counted one by one the sand that was in my hands, it turns out I was falling on the memories of tears shed tears do not feel. I was carried away in my childhood daydreams where all the sorrows buried in the stifling straits of destiny.

The pain that I had been afraid of was a reality that could not be forgotten just like that, because that was the reality to be faced. I was frightened in darkness and suffering, and then I saw the moon radiating very bright, beautiful and entertaining. It seems that the moon ousts the dark night, "I muttered.
As darkness goes away I am not afraid any more sadness is lost carried away by the brightness of the moon that radiates. I was the dream traveler of his home farm laborer on the beach.

How do I know that?

The month
say it to me, that's all it says.
"Rohman ... alsoaaaaaaaaaaang,"
"Rohman ... alsoaaaaaaaaaaang,"
"Rohman ... alsoaaaaaaaaaang."
Shouted a man I did not know who called me home, but from the sound of his voice I vaguely recognize it, the voice is familiar to me, the voice I always heard when I was a kid, the voice whispered chanting sholawat slowly and melodically ditelingaku when I cried .

The voice that gives me hope to achieve my dreams in the future, he is the one who gives the true meaning of life.
I try to force my head to recognize who is who I am even though I remain hidden in the reverie of the night.
I vaguely peeped at the darkness of the night it was my mother.
Mom ... Calling me.
Mother, she who always gave hope of every despair came from the unfailing sadness I felt.
The suffering of my unfailing destiny for a comfortable life of all-sufficiency I have never felt.
With the distance of the beach not so far from home approximately 500 meters. I rushed home with a little run and carries a sense of curiosity, what's the matter when my mother called home

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