(When The Rains Come)

Our house stands on a valley
early summer evenings find people strolling
specially when the sky is arrayed with countless stars,
and a full moon cooperates with a glow

Who wouldn't want a rain-less evening?
no rush...walking easy on a Friday or Saturday night
finding ways to unwind....glasses tingle in toasting
conversation and laughter fill the air...

In parts of the valley shielded by bridges and walls
there live the troubled, homeless souls
they, too, want to breathe the evening air
they leave their improvised homes
find dark spaces, where they turn bolder
some toughened...almost numbed
their litanies, held within
their eyes, beyond shedding tears
their faces stained with sadness and frustration
due to failed expectations

Around these dark spaces
are where callous eyes meet wary looks
where angels mingle with demons
where, most times, indifference wins
against compassion.

Twice,
i met the dauntless, black eyes of an old woman
i almost dropped mine, to avoid the stare
but she tapped my elbow...i looked up again.

Both of my shoulders would not suffice
to ease the burden this old woman carried
how do we deal with a problem that always starts but doesn't end?
how? when most turn their faces, their backs, their thoughts away,
because, there's nothing spectacular to see, or be expected
just more unpleasant things to come up.

The rains have finally come...our valley
most often, turns into a gully
where it seems to be raining forever.
i think of the old woman with black eyes
if she's still around, could she be hungry? wet again?
shivering from the cold rain?
where could she be seeking shelter
now that summer
is finally over?


Sally

Copyright May 23, 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

I'll sing to myself.
The song of the devoted lovers of insanity,
In the orchids with their hands intertwined and their souls moving perfectly in sync.

I'll sing to myself,
The melody of the rain,
Which poured its heart out on the blooming flowers and the tall native trees,
Along with the tender breeze,
Rolling gently in the distance whispering your name.

I'll sing to myself,
The harmony of the brook,
Transcending into the deep seas,
Like it was designed, destined and fated to be a part of it.

I'll sing to myself ,
The song of the lonely mountains,
Beneath the moon, which have seen the untold sunrises, disheveled tides and the low valleys screaming in the hollow yet the alluring land.

I'll sing to myself,
The strain of love and of despair,
Of curse and of prayer,
Of disdain and of admiration-rare.
Of loneliness and only of tears.

I'll sing to myself about thee,
Because you're not here, to sing to me.

My dearest wife
You are
the solution to my weaknesses,
the spark of light to my darkest moments,
so dark like the void between the stars,
the balm to my weary, torn soul,
the hope of my hopelessness and
the love of my heart.
In you I find
all the reasons to live.

I miss the days when i got a comment that said that was awesome

the days when plagiarism didn't taint our papers

the days when berly dov,
the fictional real character of hello poetry
didn't dominate our thoughts
our discussions

the days when Joe challenged our might to toy with words

the days when no one was competing to hate the other

the days when "Deborah"
didn't have to write about the hate that we are so eager to embrace

the days when I didn't have to write that
Hello poetry
should rest in peace

As blossom fell to the waters
Red settled upon
Diluted,
Purified,
Life
Was washed away, I sent you
As others, upon the waters to
"Cleanse you,
"Of what I had done,
For with each cut a branch of life
Bled,
Seeped,
Amber
Of red where cuts not deep,
"But in spring,
"When life came forth"
A balance had to be meet.
The circle of creation had to be cleansed
with offerings of death,
Lacerations,
Tearing,
Sculpturing
The moments, now cleansed
Upon the flowing waters,
Blossom was drained from branches,
"Washed away,
Purified, Taken away.
I had bleed the bud of life,
I will for each day that life grows anew.
Take one  & drained,
"The crimson wine of life"
And blossoms will fall upon the waters absolved
They float away death and life,
Cycles each year kept in true harmony each **cleansed.

Lights are entities that guides us
Through the hardest
Through the blackest nights
Through the darkness abyss

Rupturing every enmity
Emmiting hope rendering malevolence
Stagnant beliefs alive in flames of miracles
Sparks of faith burnt in hays of hollows
Igniting the ones who lost hope
Believing again,
Living life to the fullest

**Souls returned to their nests,
Finally home.