Reaching out to heaven

Reaching out, like leaves reaching out to heaven, like the outstretched hands of a beggar on a dusty street, reaching out for pity or perhaps a little sympathy, forced into shamelessness by a lot unfit even for friendless dogs. A tortured soul reaching out for a hint of an understanding while standing confused and confounded, unable to sort out the feelings that jostle each other in his heart and gut. Reaching out for respite from a constant throbbing of an anguished heart unable to comprehend how such a feeling could ever exist in a world so wonderful and hopeful.

A single strand, a web reaching out to trap an unwary passer by, an insect, a fly, food to be trapped and wrapped in silky web too strong to resist. A tick with outstretched limbs reaching out to nowhere, waiting for a passing cow or buffalo or horse, a host for its next generation of parasites.

Ching's World reaching out into the darkness and anonymity of Cyber Space offering on its pages beautiful sunsets and brilliant sunrises on sleepy shores where the lazy coconut sways to the slightest passing of a breeze taunting it, seducing it to embrace and caress its whispering leaves. Glorious Philippine beaches. Dumaguete, Cagayan de Oro City, Paradise in the Pacific.