And that smile, like sunshine, dart
Into many a sunless heart,
For a smile of God thou art.
– from H. W. Longfellow’s Maidenhood,
October 1841
Great Mother, let Me Once be able
To have a Garden, House, and Stable;
That I may Read, and Ride, and Plant,
Superior to Desire, or Want;
And as Health fails, and Years increase,
Sit down, and think, and die in Peace.
-from M. Prior’s Prayer to Rhea, 1700

Thou art strong willed
Like the mid-August wind
Scattering dried leaves from the ground
And sending them away in a different time and space.

We’ve never met
Only in words
And simple pleasantries
In the Maya of cyberspace
However you caught me with your garlands of words
And I have never, ever forget your face.
I am now a prisoner of owe
With your words powerful grace
(God forbid of humanly worship
For a maiden enriched with the power of poetry).

They have told me you’re in love
And being in love is the best thing
That a person could be
For love has changed many things
From bad to worst, from worst to best
Depending on how the heart has defined the word.

On the other hand
I was lonely and aggrieved
When you told me that you had lost your
Dear muse of poetry
That you cannot write even a simple phrase—
Of amusement, of anger, of loneliness, of curse or of praise
Although you managed to write
A simple yet an astounding verse
About a cup of tea
That you have shared with the man
To whom you have loaned your heart
Perhaps, forever until eternity.

But I am still waiting
For the rain of words to pour
From your hands and heart
And I am always uttering a simple pray’r
To the Muse
That go back to your side
And give you once more
The miracle of the word.

Antipolo City, Philippines; 12 June 2011


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