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