It is not what I intended,
But it’s what the moment
I have great reverence
For the higher laws;
I humbly surrender myself
To this moment of recluse.
With epenness and faith,
I trust the will
Of the greater power.
I will come out
From this passage
Like my efflorescence
Amid the bunch.
I turn the faucet on
But nothing comes out.
Turns it back off
There’s this thirst inside.
Sometimes I thought,
Perhaps I picked the wrong cup
To catch the down pour
That would not come.
I waited too long
To quench this wanting.
But still waited.
And forgot about my thirst.
Some other times,
I slide the sill open
Needing the sun
That’s hidden behind the walls
But what would I need rain
Those times when my heart is flooded?
Often I thought,
I should have shut it close,
But still kept the sill open
Until I slept waiting
That would not be there
I forget. And still
Wake up to another day
The water runs
From the faucet most days.
There’s rain when it’s the season.
Not all days,
But there’s the sun ~
They happen in succession
For a reason.
Dreams – nights, days – and reveries.
In your absence,
And in waiting
There’s no such thing
As a wrong cup.
It’s in how I fill it up
And with what.
We travel to open our eyes,
To the world
Different from our own . . .
in the temporary dwelling place
under a roof where many dwellers took shelter
to innhale the earth’s fresh breath, of whissling winds and singing lake.
to commune with the locals
to be part of her inhabitants
to belong to her community
to reside in her home
to feel safe
to become part of her family
to go back in time following the signals of the earth’s light house
to dock ashore
to anchor in her harbor
to find comfort in her warm embrace
to walk her streets
to taste her produce
to dine on her table
to shop in her market
to buy her products
to met up with young artists
to befriend her vendors
to ride on life’s carriage
to blend with the commuters
take a train ride around town
to be amused by performing artists, jugglers
to be child-like again
to find that quietude in spite of the turmoil
to find internal peace in the midst of the present and ancients wars battling in our heads
to be enriched by the heritage
to feel refreshed and renewed
to be reinvigorated body and soul
to thank the heavens for the graces
to seize the moment
to bless the day
to bathe in the earth’s fountains
to be reassured we are part of the streams of the universe
to be ready for our next trips
to sail forth
to embark in life’s new journey again
on and on.
The destination ever beaconing in the distance
We are part of heavens’ immense plans
each one of us is a special thread
that makes up the universe’s colorful tapestries.
. . . Their part of the world and mine are no different afterall,
We take shelter in the same roof
Under the same arched skies.
(Kenosha and Racine, Wisconsin, July 31 to August 2, 2009)
I search for signs of home
In the arched-sky.
What I see are walls of concrete and steel.
I long for the warmth of a humid dawn
What I got is the chillly wind of the city.
I miss the morning laughter of home,
The cries of the iron birds taking off
From their concrete nest is what I hear,
Along the sleepless noise in the streets.
My nostrils take in whatever scent
That would bring me wave of nostalgia
What I have are the fumes of the busy traffic.
I need a single soul to remind me of home,
But he’s fast asleep in his room.
This is my saddest daybreak.
Watching a different horizon away from home.
And then it happened.
The sun slowly crawls behind those walls
And rises on the ridges of concrete and steel.
Its first ray catches the tears in my eyes ~
I see dazzling bright lights magnified.
And then I am enlightened.
Somewhere in southeast asia,
In one of the ‘lil isles of the Philippines,
This sun, in the same sky, in different horizon
Rises every morning at home.
And I carries the memories of those sunbreaks
For they are etched inside my chest.
Today turns out to be my happiest morning.
For I know now that the sun
I watch rising on the ridges of concrete and steel
Is the same sun that will rise tomorrow
In the home of my heart.
Only it will rise
On the mountain ridges.