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Posts Tagged ‘dawn’

The storm had passed

and left pellet marks of rain

to my parched earth. An afterglow

radiating and pulsating

 

with warmth of whispers

and silent promises

about the sea of softness

under the night clouds.

 

Like the shepherd moon

it clings in the presence of moments,

of minutes and hours, sweet

love talk by the angels of youth.

 

Words, words I have to rinse away

thereafter- extinguish this flame.

Long before the dawn breaks

the transience of tenderness.

 

My intimate surrender.

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A series of opening.

Waiting. Closing. Life.

It started when you came

out from your mother’s womb.

With a cry loud enough

to rouse the world

from its deep sleep.

And the breaking of dawn

opening the earth’s curtains

like little fingers of light

slipping into space, entering

by the window.

 

For the longest time,

you inhabit that space,

eager in the waiting

of opening your eyes

each morning to see

that the world changes

outside while taking it in.

Waiting for the signals,

the pulses and heartbeats.

Speeding along with days,

pacing with hurried footsteps

in that familiar cycle.

 

Only to find that beginnings

anticipate endings. A book

closing its chapters winding

down through changes until

reaching its climax. At last.

Ending with the earth’s curtains

closing like womb, too. With you.

Like clods of earth falling

down into that space, night

softly crying to its deep sleep.

Shutting off the light, leaving

by the door.

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We abandon the place

after the flood. When

the alleyway became a river

detouring its natural course

meanders into two directions-

separate

 

until that gap

spans the vast expanse of the land.

Wider than the ocean,

for years now.

 

Long pauses between seasons.

Winter. Spring. Summer.

Fall. A silent  rain

muttering through the night

whispers becoming promises,

dewdrops of tears in the dawn.

 

Time have weathered

this young couple’s portrait

left hanging in the wall.

Silhouette and shadows

in muted remembrance

among traces of dry mud

and moss,

 

mildews

eating up the torn

and brittle edges-

the vows to our union.

The floodwater left

its ugly stains

of pain. Unreconciled

 

between two people

lost in the randomness.

Of things. Searching

to belong in another’s embrace.

 

Which can’t be found

 

even if the storms

have finally subsided.

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Came down the confetti

among the concrete gardens

of skyscrapers in the city

we embrace-

the promise of freedom

remembering the days

when you conquer

the hearts of men.

Frail and afraid

among the chains,

blind slaves to tyranny.

 

Bye, bye

yellow butterfly.

 

Flutter your wings

amidst the tempest

set free, unafraid

of your glory-defining

turbulent life.

 

Like the many yellow

ribbons tossed in the wind,

a salutation to dawn.

An ode to the beauty

of your kindred spirit.

 

Bye, bye

yellow butterfly.

T’was a long,

long way journey home.

Fly away graciously

among the angels

heaven bound.

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Father, I remember-

waiting for you

on my birthday

And they say,

you’ll bring home

a present like

what other boys have.

I wish of a little toy

I will ride along

in the neighborhood.

And try to belong.

 

Father, I forgot

how long-

I have chased

the speed of days,

counting roosters

that have crowed

at dawn break.

All the hope

that have died

and buried inside. I forgot

the tears that have dried.

 

Father, quite still-

there are images

of trees I forgot to climb.

Of kites I did not flown.

Of baseball gloves

I did not put on.

Of the nursery rhymes,

left unsung. I slept-

as the world turns

of bedtime stories

unheard. I have grown.

 

Father, see me now-

how everyday, I wake up.

And struggle to balance

like a weighing scale.

The drudgery

of riding big toys

through the alleyway

of this wild world.

As I left skid marks,

deeply scarred

the innocence of this boy.

 

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Yesterday is the longest day of my life.  It has compacted the years into small capsules of time that I tend to forget the stitch in of each events. Bewildered, how my memory had the tendencies to replay the scenes as crisp as they were.  And the details are flashed to the most stunning of vivid colors and dreamy sequences like in a movie.

The most lovely time I had,  would be replaced by now.  I used to say, 3:00 o’clock in the afternoon is my favorite time of the day.  But now, I have got to change my mind, it’s 3:00 o’clock in the morning. 

Deliberately, I framed up myself to get a three-hour bus ride taking me to the province. And in the early morning chill off I go, knowing that by that time I will witness the grandest show on earth, the sunrise. I have longed to see the sun breaks in all its naked glory, like an angel waiting for the sunrise. In the past months in Manila, I would always wake up 9:00 o’clock in the morning, without witnessing how dramatically the sun could keep me company.

In the bus, I have got the luxury to choose templates of my past memories. It hops back and forth like a story thread of anytime, anyhow and anywhere. Heightened by the symphony of the bus humming its rhythms and grooves as it wheeled through the highway. Plus the dopplerian effect of lights flashing through the window glass would make each memory worth a slide in a film.

I am most humbled. I have become the moviegoer in an empty cinema. No one will ever disturb me in my reverie, I said to myself.  And the story has now becoming untamed, and it merges into the streams of wondrous reflection. Like an image in the water, it distorts and becomes clear again.

Before long, my fixation to the blurred images in the horizon created a locomotion. A foreboding. That the book of days still got some pages to fill.  And it is up to me to look beyond and hope. A hope that there gonna be a new breaking of the day. New passions to pursue. New milestones.

And there it was, the stillness.  The softness.  The holiness. Where the  morning light had embraced the landscape. Giving life to each. Touching. Big things. Small things. The living.  And the lifeless.

Its like an ode that awakens each creature to stand and witness. The sun’s first golden rays. A glory to behold. I shed a tear because I am genuinely happy. And my dream to witness a sunrise has been granted by time.  It has now appeared to me as a reality interplaying in my happy thoughts.

Come what may, I will not forget. This symbol of the sunrise would be an anchor for me. That I will be safe and sound no matter what crossroads I may get into. That regrets will have no space.  Only hope.  It’s gonna be better days ahead.

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