I never got to meet my father...
He died when I was nine months old,
But his presence, I always felt
While I was growing up,
Even up to this day...

He would often visit me in my dreams,
Told me not to worry or despair,
Took my hand,
Told me I could go with him..
Which I almost did...

A few times, in high school
I felt a light push on my back
When my Home Economics teacher
Almost caught me nodding...I was
Too bored, to focus on her sewing lessons...

I was always saved from falling
Each time I climbed the guava tree...
I feel some kind of force stopping me,
Standing ahead of me,
Whenever I cross the street, even now...

My late aunt said she found me
Looking up and giggling
When at three or five years old,
I played by myself beside
My father's tall and sturdy book case...

I see his face when I go through
His dwindling collection of
Edgar Allan Poe books, including his
Law books, and a few western pocketbooks left,
All, with mottled pages now...

The matrimonial bed he shared
With my late mother is still in use...
His portrait is hung on our wall...
Today, the fifteenth of June, his birthday,
I look through his eyes, and-----

In silence, I greet him,
"Happy birthday, papa,
Happy Father's Day, as well."
In my mind, my father lives,
And my own stories of him therein dwells...

Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

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•

Slow drift

We

Shall find the mountain and the sun

•

On the silent side

Far from the pettiness

Of childish embraces

----

Far from the dying dreams

Far from the dead world

Free

To feel the power of all creation

••

Strength

•

All is ours

•

•      •

We are beyond all who enslave

By turning our trust into frailty

We know our love is all that is

Truly even here at all

/// ::: \\
•    •
<>

•

The girl with opened eyes

•

Writes a poem

(     The wind contains     )

••

There ARE  true feelings

(     Have you heard  ?     )

••

That there is a truth to LOVE ?

/--/

The mountains are filled with MOUNTAIN MEN

--

The lovely ladies kiss the moon

The simple child no longer cries

••

The simple tale

••

The song that drifts o'er the countryside

••

The scent of blossoms

••

The courage of saints

-••-

The loving lady with opened eyes

((      O      ))
/// || \\

/\

•

angel

Come

We

••

We are so very weary now

••
//   \
I

I still believe

( yes I do )

•••

She loves me

I can hold her

Softly
( for a while )

•

Days

They are here

( we know which ones )

••

The earth is erupting

But still - she

Knows you completely and by name

•

You can sit there and suffocate

Or

You can come forth
&
Dare to breathe

Dare to touch

Dare to try to protect and save

••

IT'S ALL OVER !
( this sad sad world )

••

I and the new one
Walking by

I and the new one

Walk your streets

Come on out !

( one more time )

0
/\
:::
/\/\/\/\/\    

•

Lofty vision

&

Do we REALLY believe ?

Gentle child
We know

That this world that contains you
Hurts you so

And how we all want to be deceived

As to what we claim to want
&
What we dare admit we know

•    •

From my window I can see

The lonely vision of the poet boy

Walking the midnight  toward the dawn

On the bridge a trembling in the storm

The demons and heroes are being formed

In the mystic feeling

Of the coming War

•

See the tears on ancient cheeks

From the planets
souls released

Powers unheard of
Ever before

Visions of fires
&
Opening doors

Gods and goddesses

And you , too

Out of the slavery

FREE

••

Still together

Hand in hand

From the mountains
To the streets

From the cities toward holiness

Upon the waters of the sacred seas

••

NOW ! NOW ! NOW !

The mystic poet speaks

Just by being here again

From out of the tragic

Toward the enlightening
                      
••

Brothers & Sisters

It's time ---- to go

Brothers & Sisters

Its time to go