Favorite Ecstasy

I could sit on the sidewalk for hours;
observing the scars along your back,
tracing all wrinkles of time you collect,
stare at your myopic eyes.
Curiously decoding the cries,
the stories,
the pain,
the tragedy that people told me.
Seeking truth like Thoreau.

But in front of your flabbergasting arch,
and with beautifully poignant welcome from you,
I ask myself, "What do I know about your suffering?"

You are not perfect.
And to save the suspense,
neither am I.

So, for every pavement and lamppost
built from years of weeping,
I bow and praise your big heart
like a moon plunging into glimmering horizon.

Oddly,
you have become one of
my favorite ecstasy,
Jakarta.

- Verrel Argo Baldi, August 7th 2016

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