The Cyclic Rebirth
Nature and its seasons take us beyond the mind and its reasons.
If I could tell you what you meant to me,
I would tell it in a song.
I would build you a body from my tears
And a bridge back to where we were once whole.
Just before you left,
I would have pulled you close
And thanked you for your kindness —
Because even now, it still doesn’t feel real.
Parts of me are humble.
Parts of me are numb.
Death leaves us with emptiness —
And yet everything you worked for remains.
You are gone,
But your legacy stayed behind.
You left immense wealth,
Not just in money,
But in meaning.
Money has always been a struggle for us —
And there you were,
Sitting upon abundance,
Slightly bitter, very frugal,
Yet unknowingly preparing a future for others.
That gesture — even if unspoken —
Was one of the most touching experiences of my life.
And still… I cannot cry.
For months I have wanted to cry,
But the tears have been locked behind a drought.
I didn’t get enough time with you.
I wish I had known.
I wish I had come sooner.
I wish I had been there in the end.
But I didn’t know.
Still, I feel indebted to your love —
Because your mother was my best friend,
And that bond carried forward into your life.
So what is holding up these tears?
The mind.
The distractions.
The endless noise that keeps us from the truth.
Pain rises — and the mind runs.
I search for meaning,
But nothing pure comes through.
So I stop.
I realize I have been writing to an audience,
Not to the soul.
And in that realization, the message feels hollow.
Yet your small kindness still echoes.
It is the loss of all this that hurts —
And paradoxically,
It is the loss of all this that is an illusion.
The Fire of Pain
Irritability fills me.
Anger lingers with nowhere to go.
Small noises feel like sparks —
Igniting something deeper inside.
It is pain.
But why?
It is illusion.
Yet I feel as if I must die to escape it.
So I surrender.
I stop resisting.
Because even in the depths of sorrow,
Bliss can still be found.
Who Controls the Hurt?
The pull of pain is infectious.
It pretends to control us —
Until we realize we were never powerless.
If pain is in charge,
Why do we end up hurting those we love?
Because pain seeks expression,
Not destruction.
And when it is ignored,
It lashes out.
Let Your Pain Become a Flower
I fight this darkness often,
Though its grip has softened.
I don’t fully know where it came from,
But I sense its purpose now:
It came to speak through me.
So let your pain be the flower of your soul.
Water it with your tears.
Let it grow.
Suffering is not meant to destroy you —
It is meant to transform you.
On Misery and Loneliness
They say misery loves company,
But I have been miserable alone,
And miserable with others.
So misery does not truly love company —
It only seeks distraction.
It reaches outward,
Hoping to feel less empty.
But loneliness cannot be solved by others.
It must be faced inwardly.
Misery does not have a home —
Because the soul it belongs to has forgotten itself.
?? Loayza Films on YouTube:
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? Books by Michael Angel Loayza Jr.
These ideas are also explored more deeply in my written work:
?? Browse my books on Amazon:
https://www.amazon.com/Books-Michael-Angel-Loayza-Jr/s?rh=n%3A283155%2Cp_27%3AMichael%2BAngel%2BLoayza%2BJr.