halcyon and laughter

When owls call the breathless moon
In the blue veil of the night
The shadows of the trees appear
Amidst the lantern light

We've been rambling all the night
And some time of this day
Now returning back again
We bring a garland gay

the murmurs' dance, loreena mckennitt

women should not congregate. how cynical that is.

today i have participated in the most glorious congregation volitionally i have ever been in for ages. one beeming virgo, one charismatic capricorn followed by an aspiring pisces, we are the most beautiful reunion since the birth of hera. yes baby, thunder does not struck. venom is not exchanged. and definately no abuse of any little frisky animals.

glowing in the company of two stunning, independent and intelligent women, i chuckled heartedly after such a long time, my laughters echoing the whole house whose unfamiliar sound i have long forgotten.

we engaged in topics only marxists will favor. we are tearing inside out over the atrocious ideas the home and bridal designers have come up with to mulct the brides-to-be using that once in a lifetime excuse. it gets so mad that we are almost rolling on the floor.

there is an air of love and happiness in the room, so thick and puffy that you can punctured tiny holes in it with your little fingers to smile and wink at the impish pixies hiding behind those masses to steal little glances at the ruckus going on in the room. butterflies are hovering above the violets outside the windows peeping at the privy fete and wish that they can join in the fun too. the monsters are kept at bay today. even the mices have come out to play.

it feels like those halcyon days again, when i was a little girl with two ponytails and a freshly plucked frangipani tucked behind one ear, humming softly to myself, swinging myself high on the swing to feel the sunny afternoon breeze warm on my cheeks. and if i concentrated hard enough, with my eyes closed, i can feel myself soaring with the doves as i kicked myself higher into the air.

gone are the days when i was a little scalawag, longing for me to grow up fast. those golden years came and gone all too fleetingly. i am welcomed into the grown up world to coffee, hard concrete, cold city and harsh humanity.

this moment, as i gazed tenderly at a dear friend who looks nothing less than a faerie nymph being exclusively taken out from a fabled tale and inebriated into my life, we look at each other and smile. how far we have taken off since that day at redang when she initiated the first hi.

many years from now, we will still share many moments like this, leaning on each other for support, skipping around with happiness when something great has happened to the other. promising each other to fly over when she gives birth to the first child and when i wed in the future.

we will both grow old together. we will have many beautiful babies. we will laugh at each other's bloated stomach outside the gynae's waiting room, bring our children to the coffee cafe for afternoon tea and explain to them the difference between earl grey and chai. when we are old with grey hair, we will help each other dye our hair and look for our lost dentures. we will hold onto each other and stroll to the playground to watch our bawling grandchildren laughing on the merrie-go-round. or maybe, just maybe, still sun tanning in our bikinis under the morning sun.

and most important of all, we still have each other now.