Life has never been the same since your last birthday
When I made that phone call one fateful night
You drove to my house, went out of your way
And served as my people's beacon of light.

You interceded with your stories of love
So beautifully to make them understand
that being true and genuinely happy
are the most precious gifts at hand.

You've taught me so many good things--
To be a good person is the loveliest of them all
This I take with me wherever I go
There's no battle to lose, we rise in every fall.

A thousand thanks may never be enough
To show you how really grateful I am
A family I am to you, you've always acknowledged
Know that I thank God for this strong bond.

Now that you're to set foot on a foreign land
There's nothing else I wish for you
but a strong, steady heart, an unbreakable spirit,
a love that lasts and dreams coming true.

I could still recall how gently I held your seed
and brought you to your bed.
There a drop of sweat from this forehead
joyously mingled with some grains of your soil.
I lay you there and saw the approval of the sun
as he sent his warmth reflected on your cheerful coating.
You lay down restfully on your life bed
And I dreamed…

You rose with your sturdy trunk
so robust with pride that your neighboring flagpole
felt intimated by your presence.
They sang him hymns
they bowed at him with their hearts
while you humbly stood there
swaying your greens, reaching atop, conquering the scorches of your sun
so that they, underneath remain unharmed, unscorched, unsoaked.

Soon you bore velvety fruits that the young munched as well as the old
On lazy days you gave them games of soccers and boomerangs,
and tennis, and catches and fetches.

On moonlights, you appeared to be a violinist
as the lovers kissed under your warm company.

You were the silent listener to the broken hearts
when you offered your comforting barks as a shoulder
till they cried and wept
till they breathed and smiled once again.

You had a way with humans who slouch under your shade
You hummed serenades that only your chirping friends
and fluttering colorflies hear and together
you created an orchestra harmonizing songs of friendship, of peace, of love.

I saw you arise and write down histories on to your memory—
how you tried to reach for the graduates’ caps in the air,
how spirited you applauded for great speeches  on that podium
but no one ever noticed.

I saw you sway your branches gracefully as the marching band went
boom-boom, tug-tug, and kling-klang.
It was your favorite part of the day.

So many times you bore witness to silly fights
of the young and the old too,
but most often you saw these creatures
make peace at dusk.

There I saw you in eternity.
There I saw you to be forever standing tall on your life bed.

Then I heard the hellish rumble of their chainsaw,
the shrill reverberation piercing through this feeble core
as they ruthlessly cut your body.

I could not afford to watch you being slain.

You are my life.

Your death is my death.

To the childhood unforgotten--

Take me back again
To the games of siato, tumba-lata,  and tagu-taguan
with playmates whose faces I long to remember.

Take me back again
To the carabao rides on the muddy ground
The smell of the rain on the rice paddy and the laughs of my cousins as we tumbled down.

Take me back again
To the dining table lit by a kerosene lamp as we feasted on May's salted fish and mamok
With the cold, fresh water from the earthen jar
and the coconut and pili conserva in banana leaves.

Take me back again
To  May's lullabies with the crickets and the river's song in the background
To Pay's playing of the old guitar at siesta
and the passionate storytelling at night.

(c) Glenn Sentes
05.20.23

How does a book cry?
How does an ant smile?
Why do the bird moan
and the dog chirp
when I write a poem?
Why do their eyes listen
and their ears see
when I ***** for applause?

Why does the book cry?
Why does the ant smile?

(The book spits the pages
but smudges remain in the leaves--
forming letters of witnessing and gushing
hours--all implying regrets.)

The ant approached me
but only my heart knew
she was smiling at me.
I asked her why
but she only thanked me
for my sweet letters
that came from my lips.
I gave her a candy
but she refused.
I read her my poems.
There I saw her lips curve.
And the robin
with the blue bill sang
together with the squirrel
with a white tongue
that overheard me.
They all said,
"Why don't you stand on the Everest
and read the earth your poems?"
And I suddenly remembered
I was mute.

(c) Glenn Sentes

M-irthful disposition radiates when you have gotten to befriend her soul. She's

A-rticulate in speaking her mind and adamant in her principles yet keeps her motherly affection--a

R-arity in these difficult times of shepherding. She's

I-ndependently strong, toughened by storms that may have crushed her heart but never her soul.

L-ove reigns in her big heart as she sings you her songs and lays kisses on PL's cheeks.

Y-ou'll want to replay her infectious laughs-a music to the ears,

N-icely reminding you of her presence in cups of coffee with peers.