Up The tree of the sweetsop I see Raindrops Sliding down...to the leaves Of the Fortune tree Drip-dropping, Straight falling Splashing Down The Graveled garden
From up The tree of the sweetsop There's rain, Dropping now on my hands We are connecting Feeling The union of Cold and warm Tears from the sky touching my skin Never, never to be lukewarm Towards A presence- And in its absence Persists a longing. Crystal, silvery droplets I try to capture inside my palms I would drink them, if possible Make them stay in my system Never to depart from me As long as i can, Lest they drop and be Scattered Disintegrate Like molecules On the Graveled garden.
Sally
Copyright September 10, 2015 Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan