Sun is setting.....the dark rushes in,
from its bright orange glow,  a pale
tint of  orange turns fast to  bronze
gray, like metal.....suddenly, there's
that powerful whistle!.......suddenly
what matters, is to count the hours
'til whistle sounds its leaving, on its
way into the open sea...as a million
stars...graciously take over the sky

grip relaxes........hand lets go of old photos
candle light flickers, moth dances in circles
"no rain, please," a whisper, like  soft wind
blowing.....the heart leaps each time a boat
arrives, heart breaks when the whistle tells
of departure....the whistle...haunts this sad
soul...swaying trees, wooden walls, in their
own ways, listen....lizards rarely knock, the
cicadas stop their night songs......as dweller
withdraws from an old self, from an old life.
hushed wailings melt bits of pain...it's hard
to forget a life lived solely....for one's selfish
interests....a family abandoned...a lost voice
talks to God....of repentance....and of regret,
for years of straying, for precious time lost
an errant human being, longs to be  within
family circle again....the hugs....the giggles
baby's cheeks......the warmth of loved ones
they're a thousand reasons.....to reconsider
babies have grown up....people are weaker.
wind whispers their names under the fiery
sun...but, mostly.......in the still of the night.

"God, who would want me back?....why didn't
you let me? there at the gorge, or the stream?"

how many futile attempts had there been?
how many more boats must come and go?
how many more sunrises....sunsets to see?
one cannot.....could never escape from life
how does one learn to accept....to forgive?
when?...how....does one forgive one's self?

sleep didn't come.......faint dawn light peeps
through clearing clouds...the owner, the old
man is back, brought a daily.....with a photo
of the dweller...reportedly missing for years
a contact number, and a reward...offered for
precious information...the old man knew, he
too, was lost once.....he understood the need
offered the old cottage....to help another lost
soul, find himself again.....took long, but this
new, overwhelming courage has taken over!
dweller hurried.....then, hugged the old man
a God-given friend...in his darkest moments
the boat arrives by noon......sails before dark,
..........finally, to take the dweller...back...........
.............................. H O M E ..............................

Sally


Copyright Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
September 28, 2018  (Pacific time)

Even the most
Unclean
Of the spirits
And lost souls
Know deep in their
Dark core
Your light won’t be
Extinguished
In this life
Nor the after.

At the swinging of a pendulum
The seconds pass one, by, one.
Like beats of the drum
The spinning of the hands which dictate time

But it ends,
The weight hits the bottom, the pendulum stops swinging
The drum falls silent
With its energy all spent, it stops.

Without the will to continue,
It is allowed to die,
and silence takes over.
As time is allowed to stop.