O black toad,
Sage of the sodden floor,
Grant me your stoicism
As I go my labored way.
And may you prosper,
Consume legions, grow fat;
Yet deftly elude all
Who would do you injury.

The forest.
Fern and flower standing,
bending in sunlight toward it
like desperate souls
in their one tired moment
of beauty and grace.

I stand above a geranium,
kneeling as I pluck it
from the light.

Plein air, plein air
B r e a t h e
But I crave the city

the sound it runs
among the trees
a nameless thing
Awakens

the green, such green
G A Z E
I drink the shadow
lying between

the sun it falls
below its line
The birds they cry
placate them

the time, the time
B L I N K
But I mourn the dash

the mind it stops.
see how dead the wooded can be

infinitely
small
moment.

(of Angkor Wat)



Two years after, i still think of that
forest, where an old temple stands...
most structures are carved with intricate
designs and images...architecture was
influenced by their Khmer culture...

posts, frames and doors are stilled,
statues are tight-lipped, like frozen
witnesses...drowning in the voices
and noises of flocks of tourists,
reminding me of the noise and confusion
of my daily existence....in my own world..

i went up and down many stairs, went through
doors within doors, i lost count, while catching  
my breath, wondered why there were just door
frames............silent walls, old posts, and old
trees gave a cold feel of a distant past......yet,
in my mind, an aura of magic and mystery
hovered upon the entire temple...as if ghosts
of wisdom, and lots of stories lay dormant,
imprisoned......within the structures...

two summers and monsoon seasons passed,
my thoughts on Angkor Wat, haunt me still,
and bring back my thoughts on those doors;

some doors on our paths are closed shut,
some are ajar...some open easily, but are
ignored, or feared...some, close too soon,
before we make our first step to enter...
some stay open, yet, we become complacent,
some, have no closures or finality...leaves
one in limbo....
how will we know if it's the last one for us?
how many doors more...for you? for me?
does death give an end to life's entrances?
........or, is it just a beginning?


Sally
© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
January 2017

The forest behind my neighbor’s garage
Is ten feet wide and thirty feet long
But is full of different types of life

In summer the leaves grew full and thick
Filling the space with shades of green
The ground is dark and mysterious

But in winter the spires of lean saplings
Poke out of bright snow in numbers
Like pins in a white cushion for grandma

The cardinals glide through
The squirrels hide nuts
The finches flutter
All in plain view of my kitchen window
The forest behind my neighbor’s garage.

Oh ocean eyes
Where has the current taken you
Deep in the waters
You drift through the waves  
Relentless it seems
But hold your breath
For greener pastures lay ahead

Oh forest eyes
If I fall for you
From the tallest trees
It’s because I love the sight
Of the evergreens
And the soil from which they grow
I can feel it on my soles
There’s no better feeling in the world
  
Oh Earthen eyes
The steps you take
To make things better
The winds that change
And take you away
You roam free like never before
You are the one that cures
My soul from this misery

Oh my eyes that fill the void
Deep in space
Secluded from the universe
I think of you, when I’m alone
You remind me
Of how I use to see the world
But I’m here blindsided
By the vices of this world
But I can feel your energy
More than ever before

One day I’ll see your light
Where I can fill this empty heart
Time will come
And time will go
But I wait for the day,
Where I’ll see you
Past the realm of this world