I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with loving-kindness-- Jeremiah 3:3

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

THE CAKE THAT SPURTS WATER


The first time she saw the 4-layer white fountain in the Osmena Circle, Kiny screamed with glee, "Look, there's a cake, Mommy! While a jeepney ride home after a tiresome day-out could bring you to oblivion--just staring at something thinking blank-, a shout of that intensity and wonder could bring you back to earth in nano-second.



I am in awe at how kids apply the law of "association" when their vocabulary bank is still in want of the so many terminologies the world of wonder and complications has. To a three-year old, the fountain signifies a dream. After so much explanations and a little vocab lecture, my kid reminds me of how little we know of the world around us. And at times, I wish that there are more things of wonder than things of disgust that the world I am in has yet to reveal. For some time, I thought I am through seeing all the wonders in the physical world. But my daughter has provided me a tiny bridge back to that realm of wonder again.


Meantime, my toddler keeps asking me about that fountain in the Osmena circle that spews water which probably makes her wonder every time when can she witness that water finally coming off. That makes me wonder as well. For so long now, the fountain remains dry. It only spurts water on Christmas day and Sinulog week. One day, she will get to see it. One day, we will get to see it.

Sunday, November 20, 2011

THE MAN OF MY 412 MOONS




In his youth, he was the most gentlemanly of men. When his job allows him to have his wife's dream house,men in the neighborhood including his siblings, unashamedly, envied him.

But when years took toll on him even if his heart and mind refused to give in and give up his youth, each one of these began to chide him openly. He took all of these in strides. Yes, he did. But more than the years' toxins, it's the dent to his pride and manliness of a once glorious man of his career that makes the sag in his skin and the dim in his eyes show.

To me, who have seen his brilliance and youth, he remains the first man to have ever given me the idea what chivalry is all about. And that makes him the same young man in his heyday beyond that stooped body and slow walk. To me, he remains the first man I thought is the picture of what a husband and father is like.

Today, he celebrates his 63th birthday. I know that with his recent stressful bouts with mama and my not-so behaved siblings and sons-in-law, today is no better than his ordinary days. And what's worse, my critical financial status could not even help him feel any better.

But one day, I'd like to read this and my other poems to him when he can sit down with me and just eat his favorite meal in his favorite pants and suit.

OF BROKENNESS AND MENDING




This brokenness remains
And stands resilient
In towering
Stubborn state
. . . . . . Heading to a place
Of unfixed ends.

But in that sudden bend
A quietness will visit
The broken shards
In the cracks.

And these fragments will give
Birth to a new whole
Spawning more wholes
That will endure a multitude

Of b r o k e n n e s s.

KANG INDAY NGA BINIYAAN


Tugoti sya nga
Mutukod ug
Taytayan pabalik sa
Gakang-a mong
Dughan.

Pasagding pandayon niya
Pag-usab ang
Naanayang lawak nga
Kaniadto inyong
Gidayan-dayanan sa
Mga yanong
Ginunitay ug
Giuran-urang kinuhitay.

Sagdihi kung kini
Tinapakan na lang.
Ugma o sa sunod adlaw
Ang mga tinapakan
Mupapas sa
Nangaraan nang
Nagsiwil-siwil nga
Pangagho.

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

HERE'S TO DREAMS




A cake and a birthday candle--this is all what constitutes a little girl's dream. Indulge me in this thing they call dream. When I was small, I had the simplest of dreams I could ever remember. I saved up for that dream. All my allowances that a 10-year-old could gather had to go to a certain little nook a grader could muster as her piggy bank.

Then on the day before I turned 10, I rushed to Best Buy Mart and grabbed the three-sisters pink pop-sleeved dress off the rack. It cost a million to me. Well, actually, P85.95 to be exact. And in the early 1980s a decent dress can cost 29 to 50 pesos and it was worth the buy, which tells you the dress I kept dreaming for weeks was a high-end of sort. The lace, the fabric, the design, everything. The dress was with me for more than 10 years or so and it has kept its crisp and charm that I fell in love with the first time it caught my eyes.

But I have forgotten the thrill of that experience long time ago. I had bought and tasted many preposterously costly things in this vain adult world. Ironically, none of these big things can even match that exhilarating moment I had when I was 10. That was the time I realized that breathing is synonymous to living. I ran short of it when I finally walked to "who knows where" with that dress on. I want to go back there. That moment where almost everything around me was a wonder.

Then I saw that same look in my daughter's eyes. The birthday cake was 1,500 all right, too costly for a public teacher. But I took the courage to shake heaven and hell to find the sum to complete the 1,500 for that cake. Believe me, the road to getting the money with cashless ATM at a day where salary is two weeks yet, is an uphill climb. But the glee in the eyes of my toddler would make me go the same trouble again and again. It was magical. Right at that moment, nobody knew I was happier more than that 3-year-old little girl.

I was transported back to the time I was 10 years old in that crisp pink dress.

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

JUST HERE, BRACING FOR THE CLIMB

There are countless things I want to do and a horde of places, quaint and hushed, that I want to come home to, friends I want to sleep-over with.

These are things I chose to forgo as I have decided long ago to take a different turn. But deep down in my gut, way down in that darkness somewhere in my psyche, I know I'm going to get one or two in any of those dream places. As to how, I feel God knows how and exactly when. And I'm gonna be there with people who make me choose what I choose and give up what used to be so hard to give up.

As for now I let them stand in some corner I call back door desires.As for now, I am in a quiet place trying to grow out of the old weeds that keep coming back clambering on me at times. It's an amazing experience to live away from a space that almost snatched the special people away from me forever. Well, I'm pretty sure a lot of people I know find it a waste for me to let go what I used to have. Career and life. I could have both of these worlds had I worked harder. But now they would give me that "I pity you" look and "It's so sad of you" kind of lines guised in what sound like some sympathetic words from former colleagues. Well, I let them. They can be right in their own perspective but to me not all "rights" are good to the soul.

I guess not too many of my friends can see through me when it comes to what makes me happy. Well, of course to have 30-50 thousand in my ATM every month is a big deal. And I could buy my 2-year-old as many cans of milk that she craves for in the middle of the night as I can. But I guess, one thrives where he is happier.
Despite this, I know I'm going to be in a place where I can tower on these things. One day I would get to a space farther than any of these things my colleagues must have reached thus far. My Omnipotence will make sure of this.Meantime, I am in a place where it's not so abundant materially, but I am no way in want. And I am waiting to climb what Olympus my Sovereign father has prepared for me.