A white egret, slowly treads on marshy land...picking food
unafraid, beside a big carabao that munches grass...
...the tall reeds grow on their own, along riverbanks
........or on wide, unattended, sodden areas
no barbed wires control them from leaning, or sagging
they sway........where the wind goes.
Butterflies, dragonflies, birds
and bees in bright colors, hop on open blossoms
feasting on ripe seeds, nectar, and pollen grains.
and i, am wandering, flying, with these creatures,
perching on top of stalks.....even on carabaos' backs...
i am out there, in the open...swaying with the reeds
while dreams and inspirations spill over.
my mind roams free...no reins, no bounds,
above, and below....or, even sideways,
i inch, and feel my way
through the breathing,
...and the non-breathing...
i am a poet...i write what i feel...what comes to my mind
i follow rules set before me...though, i have
my own existing rules inside me...born with me
an innate knowledge of my limitations
as a person, as a parent, as a writer;
what should...and what shouldn't be,
what to reveal...and what to conceal,
how it is to be compassionate...and
how it is to be indifferent.
i am a poet, still hearing my late mother's voice,
emphasizing..."amor propio" and "delicadeza."
an invisible *** of fresh yellow daffodils,
lives on in my mind...a discretion ingrained in me
a kind of freedom, i opened my eyes to....
Sally
Copyright September 20, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Sep 21, 2016
Sep 21, 2016 at 2:34 AM UTC
A white egret, slowly treads on marshy land...picking food
unafraid, beside a big carabao that munches grass...
...the tall reeds grow on their own, along riverbanks
........or on wide, unattended, sodden areas
no barbed wires control them from leaning, or sagging
they sway........where the wind goes.
Butterflies, dragonflies, birds
and bees in bright colors, hop on open blossoms
feasting on ripe seeds, nectar, and pollen grains.
and i, am wandering, flying, with these creatures,
perching on top of stalks.....even on carabaos' backs...
i am out there, in the open...swaying with the reeds
while dreams and inspirations spill over.
my mind roams free...no reins, no bounds,
above, and below....or, even sideways,
i inch, and feel my way
through the breathing,
...and the non-breathing...
i am a poet...i write what i feel...what comes to my mind
i follow rules set before me...though, i have
my own existing rules inside me...born with me
an innate knowledge of my limitations
as a person, as a parent, as a writer;
what should...and what shouldn't be,
what to reveal...and what to conceal,
how it is to be compassionate...and
how it is to be indifferent.
i am a poet, still hearing my late mother's voice,
emphasizing..."amor propio" and "delicadeza."
an invisible *** of fresh yellow daffodils,
lives on in my mind...a discretion ingrained in me
a kind of freedom, i opened my eyes to....
Sally
Copyright September 20, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
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