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Glen Castillo Jul 2018
Balanseng pakikibaka,
Ito ang araw araw na ipinamulat sa akin
Ng pang araw araw ko ding pagtira
Sa mundong hindi naman timbang ang hustisya

Magkabilang panig na inaasahan ng lahat
Na sana'y magpantay ang timbangan
Ngunit ang katotohanan?
Likas nang mas mabigat ang kabila
Kaysa sa nasa kabila.

Lahat daw ay pantay pantay
Sabi ng matandang kasabihan
Ngunit para sa akin?
‘Yan ay isang malaking kalokohan

Wala pa namang naging malinaw na paliwanag
Sa uugod-ugod na paniniwalang iyan
Nakakapagod pantayin ang mga bagay-bagay.
Sa kadahilanang hindi naman pantay pantay ang layunin ng bawat nilalang

Sa lipunang,
Kailanma'y hindi na magiging patas
Sa mundong,
Kailanma'y hindi na bababa ang mga nawili na sa itaas,
Sa daigdig,
Na ang nasa ilalim ay lalo pang nadidiin

Paano pang mag-aabot ang langit at lupa
Kung mananatiling bakante ang gitna
Kung ang biktima ay lalong inaakusahan
At ang may sala ay patuloy na hinahangaan

O lupa kong hirang, o Inang kong Bayan
Tayo ba’y ang mga walang kapaguran panaginip?
Hanggang kailan tayo maaaring maidlip?
Tayo ba’y ang mga hindi natutulog na batis?
Hanggang saan tayo padadaluyin ng mga agos ng hinagpis?
Tayo ba'y ang mga sigaw
Sa kwebang walang alingawngaw?
Hanggang kailan tayo magtitiis
Sa 'di makatarungang ''Mga Bulong ng Hapis''.




© 2018 Glen Castillo
All Rights Reserved.
Glen Castillo Jul 2018
Umaga na pala,
Subalit tila umpisa pa lang ito ng dilim
Dito sa bayan kong nasa sinapupunan ng mga sakim
Pagpagan ang mga baro't saya habang hawak ang sedula
Nilang mga uhaw sa tronong ipinangako sa kanila

Naluklok na bagong puno,sa pagdaka’y nagpaulan
Ng mga balang hindi man tingga ay tumatagos sa kaibuturan
Sa dati niyang ka giyera na s'yang mga tunay na anak ng bayan
Iginapos sila’t ipiniit sa sandipang karapatan

Yaong mga bago niyang kawal ay matatayog pa sa kalabaw
‘Pagkat kasama niyang magkakamal ng salaping umaapaw
Mag kaka-ututang labi ay iisa ang kaliskis at balagat
Sila na mag kaibigang dila at ngipin sa pilak din mag-papangagat

Habang ang mga dating sadyang tapat sa gampanin
Ay mistulang mga bayani na lang sa hangin
Ang pagka dalisay nila sa maka-kapwang  tungkulin
Parang sa tubig na isulat at hindi na basahin

Kawawang Sta. Teresita bayan kong dinusta
Ng mga ganid sa kapangyarihan at mapang-alipusta
Akong anak mo’y nasa daluyong ng kapanglawan
Kabiyak mo sa balsang itinali sa nagluluksang pampang

Kawawang Sta. Teresita ginahasa ng mga mapag-samantala
Hinubaran ng dangal at piniringan ng telang mapula pa sa pula
Binusalan ang bibig hanggang sigaw mo’y hindi na marinig
Mga araw mo ngayo’y mamumugto sa haharapin **** pag-liligalig

Tahan na Sta. Teresita,Tahan na,
Bayan kong sakdal iniibig
Matatapos din ang sigwa,
Tutulay muli ang lunday sa sapa.




© 2018 Glen Castillo
All Rights Reserved.
Mahal kong Bayan ng Sta. Teresita sa kasalukuyang panahon
7/31/2018
Glen Castillo Jul 2018
Sabi nila,kapag nahanap mo na daw ang tunay na pag-ibig ay nahanap mo na rin ang iyong langit dito sa lupa. Kaya't naniniwala akong langit din ang maghahatid sa'yo patungo sa akin. Pero naiinip na akong maghintay at nanghihinayang sa bawat sandaling lumilipas , na hindi ko man lang magawang hawakan ang iyong mga kamay sa mga panahong kailangan mo ng karamay.Na hindi ko man lang magawang damayan ka kung dumadanas ka ng lumbay.Alam kong katulad ko,pakiramdam mo minsan ay binitawan ka na din ng mundo.Kaya't patawarin mo ako kung sa mga pagkakataong nararanasan mo yan ay wala ako d'yan para ikaw ay aking ma-salo. Kung totoong ang pag-ibig at ang langit ay may malalim na kaugnayan sa isa’t-isa,malakas ang kutob ko na tayo din ay iginuhit na katulad nila. Minsan na din akong nagtanong,saang sulok ng langit ka kaya naroroon? Malapit ka kaya sa araw? O marahil nasa tabi ka lang ng buwan,na sa tuwing sasapit ang dilim ako ay binabantayan.Kaya pala kahit saan ako magpunta ako'y lagi niyang sinusundan. Pero maaari din na ika'y kapiling ng mga bituin na kay daming nais mag angkin. Kay palad kong pagdating ng araw ikaw ay napa sa-akin. Kaya habang wala ka pa,ako muna ay magiging kaisa ng mga mabubuting kawal ng ating bayan. Makikidigma kung kinakailangan,ipaglalaban kung ano ang makat'wiran. Upang sa iyong pagdating ay malaya nating tatamasahin ang payapang buhay. Kaya habang wala ka pa ako'y taos puso kung manalangin sa ating may likha. Na paghariin niya nawa ang kabutihan sa aking puso bilang isang tao at higit sa lahat ay bilang kanyang anak , upang sa sandaling tayo'y pagtagpuin ako rin sa iyo ay magiging isang mabuting kabiyak. Hindi pa man tayo nagtatagpo,nais kung malaman mo na laman kang palagi ng aking panalangin. At habambuhay kong itatangi ang iyong pag-ibig na siyang dahilan kung bakit maka ilang ulit kong nanaising mabuhay. Nais kong ipagsigawan sa mundo na iniibig kitang wagas,ngunit mas mamatamisin kong hintayin ka at kapag naglapat na ang ating mga dibdib,ibubulong ko sa'yo na ikaw ang aking daigdig. Maghihintay lang ako,habang wala ka pa.




© 2018 Glen Castillo
All Rights Reserved.
Pag-ibig sa tatlong salita (IKAW,BAYAN at DIYOS)
Sally A Bayan Jun 2018
Something caught me off guard, that hot day,
an unexpected thunder roared its presence,
violent...continuously rose in volume...
the throbbing...the thumping...the
pounding intensified...while swarms of red
and pink fragments simultaneously emerged,
and skillfully created arcs...becoming orbs,
multiplying, spreading...merging...then
shaping into rounds, like atoms...combining,
revealing...bearing a scary realization...
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::­::::::::::::::
suddenly, arms and hands felt cold,
thunder softened...waned...arcs and orbs stilled,
chest started to rise and fall, peacefully.......yet, here i am,
anticipating a next time...when thunder roars anew...

Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
   June 19, 2018
...heart palpitations yesterday,while far from the house,
tried capturing the images...the feeling...
Sally A Bayan Sep 2018
Today......in some places, heavy rains and
gusty winds rule, no way to control them
today, here where i am....sun beams with
fire.........hands keep fanning the hot spell
away, i think of ice...of snow falling from
heaven....touching the skin with coldness
that freezes the sadness in our heads...we
slowly become aware.........silently, gently
it fills spaces...seeming weightless.......yet
it soothes feelings....every drop, a comfort
we ponder more, as it amasses....painting
hills,  mountains, with  immaculate white
all over.....as if choking, but never slaying
cleansing........healing.......even the human
heart and mind, from bad energy......from
stubborn dirt......from being broken.....the
sparkle of white and  the refreshing  cold
bring clarity  to one's darkened  thoughts
a respite....a shedding of old, broken skin
much like new existence..............a rebirth.


Sally

Copyright Rosalia Rosario A. bayan
September 16, 2018
Trying to divert my mind from typhoons and hurricanes.....
Sally A Bayan Jun 2018
* * *
* *
*

Faces of friends, of people i met earlier
are  glittering stars on this late evening's
dark blue sky...their smiles are tattooed
in my mind...they're  hunched, going
lower by the days...slowed down by years.
it must be hard and painful...the arching,
the drooping of the neck, the curving spine,
they endure all, 'til each day's end...they rise
each new dawn...do what they still can do,
lest they stagnate in their aging ponds,
diminish to a state, where food, pills, or
forgotten information are forced on them,
......like drugs, injected into the veins

........................
these wee hours bring back the years...
they  have been good...never mind the
hard times...there were, there are good ones
life is a long, wide stream of changing hues,
flowing on and on....my water bears the
colors each new day brings...gray, at times
with sadness and gloom....other days,
blacked by despair...some summers, red,
roseate with glee, or green with life and
hope...blue, when trust is spilling, and
the tranquil sea and sky overwhelm,
with a promise of stability..........white,
when accepting......the unacceptable...
........................
the amber grains and i, are alike
ripened enough to be plucked
be pulled out from an existence...the
signs are known...shown...yet, we wait
for when it is due to happen...and while
waiting, the stalks sway, play and dance  
and enjoy the sun and wind...and i,
while i still can...walk, jump, climb hills
and valleys in this mammoth space
of land and water.............called life
...................
the sounds of my days, i still hear,
i am a lute, a harp, a cello...playing
off-key.....out of tune at times,
my strings are my graying hair,
i still can't stop dying the gray
i still want to highlight the dark,
but, one day, all these will cease...
............
one night, my face will be in one of those
many stars...glittering on a dark blue sky
sending a smile, to my loved ones...
...................
there is no other way, but forward
all are headed....towards an end...


Sally



© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
      June 26, 2018
...ahhh, the rains...do make us reflect longer on life...
Jun Lit Nov 2018
Ang Wheelchair, [Bow!]

Alalay sa may karamdaman
Sandigan ng may kapansanan
Kublihan ng mga tampalasan ng bayan
Gamit sa pang-uuto sa sambayanan . . .

Ang Wheelchair . . .

Translation:
The Wheelchair, [Bow!]

Assistant to the sick human
Support for the disabled man and woman
Convenient cover of the corrupt gang
Used for fooling the people all and one . . .

The Wheelchair . . .
Through this I wish to express utmost dismay at how big-time corruption flourishes in the Philippines where convicted politician plunderers and thieves feign pain, pretend sickness, and gain release from incarceration on plea of humanitarian or health reasons - these things really make me sick.
Sally A Bayan May 10
Scent...

............is a spray  
of sweet, nagging fragrance,
borne by a rush of air,
touching nostrils as it travels,
to stimulate, and scintillate
a parade of memories,
especially, when distance is great
and truly separates...
::::::::::
could be from a bouquet of roses,
or a handful of jasmine...or,
the welcome smell of cinnamon, sage,
other spices...elements of what we call,
the fragrances of good cooking...or,
those of sweat and a fruity cologne,
blending, while working,
from caring....from loving...
::::::::::
it's a brush of summer wind
that captures, even a bit of a sniff
of any, or all of these scents...
::::::::::
these smells dwell in the senses
they reassure...that one person is never away
fears are held at bay...you're okay,
it brings calm to one's soul...
::::::::::
the nose...the other senses know,
the heart and the mind know
the source of all
these fragrances...
::::::::::
no perfume could ever equal
the scent(s) of a woman...
::::::::::

Sally



Copyright Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
January 30, 2018

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY TO ALL MOTHERS
AND GRANDMOTHERS !!!
(From 2018......edited a bit.)
Sally A Bayan Mar 15
In the garden, a soft-bodied plant thrives,
through sun, wind and rain, it survives,
among  asparagus ferns, it proudly lives,
contrasting its purple triangular leaves
against greens...its lightest of pink blossoms
waltz with the wind, in their fragile freedom,
almost white to blurry eyes
wavering...but, they never hide
raised high above the grass
like ladies proudly poised, with so much class...

a small white butterfly suddenly blends in,
deceivingly perched upon the pinks
but the sound of the camera's clicking
sends it immediately fleeing...
to and fro, the blossoms are swaying
reeling from the wind....wailing
over the sudden flight of their lover
waiting, for a new winged creature
on their purple bodies, to perch, to hover
alas,
....life is short...........never fair...
....and so are some...love affairs....
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Sal­ly

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
March 15, 2019
Sally A Bayan Oct 2018
<>

There is power over what's in front,
what's behind, cannot be vouched for.

any one, anything that accost me, are
all taken at face value....just as they are,
disregarding love, or dislike,
or, what dwells deep within.

when not shrouded, i am most useful
some say i'm cruel
others think, i'm kindest
but, i am just being honest.
with the least of light, i try my best,
i earn praises...they come back, they need me
sometimes i am bathed with hatred
i end up in the attic...or given away,
just because the truth is unacceptable.

the area across is most times regular,
a man on his table...what hungs on his wall.
occasionally, it becomes spectacular,
countenances, joyful, or sorrowful
come to and fro...all sorts of accolades
a mix of emotions...each day, an array
of lively colors and moods......a parade
of varied appearances feed my view
it's not what i want...it's what i am given
any time of any day...any season.
whatever the reason
someone or something
stands  to face me.

when night is late, and in complete silence
that man by the table....ever writes on paper
and gets them all wet...with his falling tears,
he writes of volcanoes spewing fire, of rain pouring,
speaks to himself, then to me, of betrayal, promises
lost, of broken vows, and shattered expectations.
i am speechless, yet filled with his pain ....he is restive
til the wee hours of the morning....then i see light in
this visage, his face...giving an end to the dark
giving way to another day's noise,
......a facade.....

Sally

Copyright Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
October 11, 2018
Sally A Bayan Aug 2018
..


Save from the hidden nests of birds,
it was the only one there...isolated,
like an isle...crested on the leveled
top of a gorge...its way down or up
was through a hand-carved series of
steps on its *****...at its front was a
curved gorge......one would think,
it was trying to cross over

the cottage was small, weather-beaten,
desolate......its wooden walls seemed to
have shrunk...its faded colors proclaimed
its age...its having survived past storms....
from its window, the stream was seen,
and heard, flowing on and on between
these two precipitous valleys.

light came from the sun...and moon,
music was provided by the murmurs of
the forceful wind, the continuous flow of
water on the stream, the stirring of the leaves,
the crackling of branches and twigs, the birds'
singing in the spring...the pounding of heavy
rains on its roof...and countless other hymns
of nature......the dweller had heard them all...

beneath a lonely moon glow,
when nights were cold,
there hovered low 'pon its aged roof,
rounds of layered fog...like a series of
steps....like a stairway to the sky...
fog slyly crept, and wilfully shrouded
the cottage.....it vanished from view,
the two gorges and the stream, hushed,
in the dark loneliness of that secluded
spot......their vulnerabilities, trapped
inside....misshapen silhouettes...

in light and in dark,
the whistles of nearing and departing
boats....were wailing, haunting calls,
piercing the peaceful calm of the valleys, or,
maybe, the stilled complacence of the cottage,
or...of the one living in that lonely cottage,
...lost, or gone astray, now weary and worn,
willing to be found...longing to be reunited
.......with the light and warmth of love...

the cottage, the gorges, and the stream
would be loneliest,
without the cottage dweller...


Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
August 27th, 2018
"...no man is an island..."
Sally A Bayan May 19
East...and west, are we?
north, and south?.....maybe...
we were nurtured with love,
our eyes and our minds opened
to different isms that helped shape our
values...we were brought up, bearing our'
folks' customs, traditions and principles...
we have different faiths...some practice...some
don't...some, don't even subscribe, yet, survive.

we have dry and monsoon season...in
other parts, pleasant weather, cold winds,
and in some parts, snow.....turning to ice

we are  a mix of white skin, seeking for a tan,
and brown-skin, hiding from the sun;
one's night, is the other's day,
there are surfers among us, playing with the waves,
there at the cusp...gambling...daring fate...
there are those who hide from silent freezing winters,
finding warmth and comfort in long hot summers...

countless points of comparison,  
yet, we've something beautiful in common,
a connection of feelings, of words......our poetry,
flowing like blood,through our veins.....endlessly
feeding, fueling our hearts and minds, with classy,
themes....sometimes bold, mushy, or....sassy...
no set skeds......we do it even through adversity...

we write......

we tell about our escape from life's banalities,
mindscapes and landscapes immersed in frivolities

yet, we await the marvels of each  morning we wake,
remembering gratitude, in every breath we take...

years have passed us by,
still, plays this soft music that mollifies
and inspires......heard only by you and i
prodding us,through the hours, of day or night

while you exist in your part of the world,
and i, in my hot, humid cosmos, longing for cold
::::::::::::::::::::::::::


Sally


© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
    May, 19, 2019
(a love poem, edited...for all Hello Poetry writers)
John AD Aug 2018
Kailangan kaya mamumulat ang mga pilipino at iwasan ang pag ka ganid sa salapi
Kailangan kaya matutupad ang pangarap kong mahirap mangyari
Sa sarili , bayan , at sa aking mga kababayan na masarap ang tulog sa gabi
Nasan na kaya ang mga kaibigan ko dati na nagbibigay saya palagi?

Puno parin ba nang hinagpis at sakit ang mga puno na puno ng kalungkutan?
Kamusta na kaya ang mga taong hindi na nakaalis sa kalungkutan at patuloy na nahihirapan?
Ang konsensya kong patuloy na gumagambala sa akin tuwing ako'y nagiisa
Hindi ko naman gusto ang mga nangyari , tuloy parin ang paggalaw at hindi paralisa

Bigo man ako sa mga bagay , patuloy parin at sinubukan gumawa ng paraan para makatulong sa bayan
Wala man dumating at magpasaya sa akin , patuloy parin sa pagrespeto sa kapaligiran
Malabo nga bang imulat ang isipan ng aking mga kababayan o nasisilaw lang sila sa kayamanan
Na nanggaling sa kasakiman ng iilang gahaman sa ating bayan

Ang sarap sa pakiramdam mamuhay ng simple at walang ipinaglalaban kundi ang pamilya at minamahal
Mga simoy ng hangin na sariwa at walang teknolohiya na gumugulo sa ating mga isipan kailanman.
Huni ng ibon , magagandang tanawin sa bakuran at paggalang sa nakakatanda na bihira nang mangyari sa kasalukuyan
Ang daming pangarap na mahirap matupad , kapag hindi natupad ang aking mga pangarap hanapin ninyo ako sa lupang aking tinamnan ng puno na aking  inukitan,habang lumulutang ang aking katawan na nakatali ang abaka sa aking leeg dala ng kabiguan.
Sally A Bayan Apr 28
(parts of an old poem-edited)

:::::::::::::::
Was awake, 'til Black Saturday's tail end,
through Easter Sunday's dawn...a day potent
with rejoicing, renewing faith, and the essence
.of one's presence
while seeking quietness
amidst the busyness
of one's existence
how does one forgive....forget
the wrong, when it still affects, and upsets?
how does one love tirelessly, without regret?
:::::::::::::
these thoughts come to me
when writing prose, or poetry.
when turning to shelley....or rossetti
the hours turn to a sentimental journey.
while understanding their lines,
i also ponder on my life...my own lines.
a mug of steaming creamed coffee, clears
the old English cloud, shooing away my fears,
......if it's my day.......if i'm in  luck,
a few lines arise easily.....or, i could get stuck.
:::::::::::::::
when winds aren't in my sail, they stubbornly
steer my boat towards that river lull, so droopy.
i paddle away, painstakingly,
when river runs dry, or dryer... i just let it be.
as long as coffee steams on......brewing,
my mug, i keep refilling...leaves me thinking
of  Elizabeth Barrett Browning's "sonnet 43..."
facing a mirror, i'd ask: "how do i love thee?"
i'd say back: "lemme count the ways, dearie."
::::::::::::::::
i see me, reeling on the bar of life's daily
circus, counting the ways, loving, going off key...
rather than fall, i turn those moments into poetry
keeping silent for hours....climbing dark valleys,
rising the next morning, to start my litany,
i ask myself anew: " how do i love thee? "
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::



Sally


©Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
April 28, 2019
Glen Castillo Aug 2018
Diyos

Bayan

Pamilya

Kalikasan

Kapwa

Sining

Sinta

Sarili


­

© 2018 Glen Castillo
All Rights Reserved.
Sally A Bayan Jan 29
Last year,
september was dressed with fears
angsty, was october,
november, cold, with a longing to be back
december showed a lively palette of colors,
yet worked with
january, in facing moments of truth...

last sunday started beautiful...but it turned horrible
as explosions took some lives, and injured many...

yesterday, monday was a lovely...cool day,
brimming with apprehension, but
the end of the day was pink-happy, with content
i met some true friends

today, tuesday, is another day to face
tons of things to do and to finish
...but i am looking forward to twilight,
when i recall today's events...

days and nights are a potpourri of yellows
and grays...of accomplishments, and failures
of expectations...fulfilling...and frustrating...
we try to forget...but they are indelible
they persist, they echo back,
.
just like,
my pixie cut brownish hair...the dye,
persist...pushed further down by
undeniable years...manifested by the gray
blending below, with the true color of my hair...

...c'est la vie....

Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
    January 29, 2019
kingjay Jan 4
Sa malayong baryo ng lalawigan ng Antigo, ng bayan ng San Arden
Nakatira kapiling ng ama
Sa murang edad, sanay magtrabaho
Magpukpok ng pako sa tabla

Sapagkat naulila sa inang nagluwal
Ikinapahamak ang matagal na pagpapakasakit
upang mailabas lang kapagdaka
bilang anak niya
sa kamalig ng kanyang ama

Kinalong ng lolo
Mga kamag-anak ay humingi ng saklolo
Bumugalwak ang dugo sa patadyong
May pag-asa pa bang mailigtas
kung dadalhin pa sa bayan nang gamutin ng pantas

Sa daraanan sa palayan, kay lakas ng ulan
Pumapagaspas ang dahon ng palay
Kakaunti lang ang hininga sa di magkamayaw na hangin
Talagang binawian na
Nautas ang ilaw ng pamilya

Sapagkat iisa lang ang bunso't panganay
Kailangan sundin ang utos at patnubay
Kung nabagot sa kahihintay,
sa pag-uwi may sasalubong-
hampas ng latigo na maglalatay
In Siem Reap, Cambodia, after a reflective tour
of the temples, a boat took us sailing.....to see
houses standing on stilts....i never expected to
sail on an endless lake.....the man at the helm
bended...he reached for something, and let go
of the wheel...a young boy, who seemed to be
his son.......quickly grabbed the steering wheel.
from that moment on, he took over...his hands
were small but, capable....when i thought, our
boat would hit an unseen rock or land, it didn't.
he took us to our destination and back...safely.
obviously, the boy was trained young..he knew  
every curved path of his surroundings...he was
aware.....cared about their source of livelihood,
proved a child can be relied on....they're more
reliable than adults, at times, despite their play
ful innocence....many times, i reflected on that
boat ride, that boy's unflinching face and hands
i asked myself over and over,  "could i steer my
boat the way that boy did?  am i navigating my
self rightly, even on life's odd waters?.....have i  
ever helped steer reeling boats before? brought
(them back to safer shores?.........not just mine?)
\::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::­:::::::::::::/
   \::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::­:::::::::/
     \::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::­:::::/
       \::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::­:/
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~­~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
    October 19, 2018
(an adult can  learn so much...from a child)
Sally A Bayan Oct 2018
One afternoon, 'neath the shed,
mr. groundhog waited...
nothing in sight,  not a cat, nor a leapfrog
just the fading sound of walking clogs
"oohhh, she's gone!  time to burrow
.....my path is still short and narrow."
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
mr. groundhog started digging.....up to the rotting log
of the wide, cut-up oak tree, upon which, a bull frog
landed...then, leapt to a hidden garden bog.
fine rains started to wet the soil...at last, mr. groundhog,
emerged from his hole on the grassy center
he popped his head out.....suddenly, great fear
enfolded him, he felt a rushing wind...whatever, whoever,
could be watching....then, an odd scent filled the air,
it persisted...that stinging smell...of pepper
lucky woodchuck! the scent dispersed in the ether
its tiny granules got soaked in rainwater.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
mr. groundhog sighed..."i'll leave it to the weather,
i'm kinda tired...........october, is almost over."

Sally
Copyright Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
October 24, 2018
Not at all fiction....groundhogs have started digging,
ruining my sister's green backyard...ground pepper
is one of many deterrents....and it's kinda cruel....
Sally A Bayan Feb 20
(Life Episodes)

Going home this evening,
i noticed a full moon following me
it reminded me of that far-off door i see
at the corners of my eyes, and mind,
closes and opens, as the wind nudges me...
...easily, i see myself through that door,
returning to those busy days.....where,

even in the dark, work beckoned...
even when tired, or when slowed down
by pregnancy, there was work to be done
in every nook, every room of our humble house...
a tummy massage calmed the baby
stretching in its womb,
i, too, needed a break before i became numb...

the rooster never stopped crowing,
demanding attention, constantly reminding...

beaming faces came with rough
edges.....unannounced, but enough
to brighten a cloudy day...laughter was
a much needed respite, from weariness,

there.....was where hair started to gray...

sun, moon and stars held my fears at bay...
day or night...night or day,
even at midnight, i and they
spoke in silence...i was always awake
  
it is never easy...life is not fair,
yet, i'm thankful, i feel, my cup runneth over
i'm a bird, calmly soaring high
i'm a pilot, trusting in God his every flight

countless days and nights...of watching
sun, moon and stars, taught me
all things, good and bad...come to an ending,
all in due time.........never in a hurry...
  


Sally

Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
February 19, 2019
Sally A Bayan Apr 11
:
..
....
........
...........

As often as a human's breath,
deadlines and restrictions pop up
simultaneous with emergencies
chores, and necessities...all in a fast
pace, many things are prioritized
...though, most are unnecessary and
occupy precious space in our lives...

everyday, we struggle...silent battles
and tribulations stir the soul...
for some reason, some things cannot
be changed...some people play deaf
and stay the same.....neither could
thoughts towards them, be altered...
sometimes, our ties with useless stuff,
and useless people...need to be severed.
moments come when, we've had enough
..............of rules and regulations.
...................we just get fed up...

life is short, but precious.....a part of me
....awaits a break......a cold phase,
.........when all my discontent would freeze
..............when all queasy feelings
...................this fidgeting within,
........................would turn to ice
..............................permanently.....
.................­......
...................
.............
.........
......
....
..­
.

Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
(an old unposted poem from 2014)
Sally A Bayan Dec 2018
I am a foreign body, floating on the moon's surface,
suit-protected.....winds are blowing without cease.
high and low i go, over its dark craters
strange, not seeing fog or mist in the atmosphere.

the cold quiet leaves me in awe
soundless, as the moon that glows
'pon which i raise my eyes to,  from below
i sense a mix of joy and fear....i don't know

this boundless heaven has me conquered
the moon, and its silence......so open-ended
...if it's possible....i have often wondered
who knows, somebody must've dared, or tried,
i believe those wise words most often uttered:
...no man is an island...

from the moon's surface, i could picture
bright events to come in a few days...i'm sure
fires of red, blue and green would soon be bursting
to light the world...when the new year comes marching

there's this longing...to go home, to my earth  
where God meant me to be, the planet of my birth
to celebrate life...the present, the future, even the past
....to show, to speak my  gratitude......no matter what...

Sally
© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
December 29, 2018

(a work of fiction)
May we all have the happiest and most
              prosperous new year!
              PEACE TO EVERYONE, MY LOVE TO ALL!!! <3 <3<3
Mag aaral ng mabuti para sa kinabukasan
Hindi lang para sa sarili para na rin sa bayan Magandang trabaho at magandang pangalan
Aking pamilya, saki'y inaasahan

Ginawa lahat ngunit di kailanman sumapat
Mas inuuna ang pamilya dahil yon ang dapat
Ni hindi makuha ang suporta na nararapat
Pamilya nga ba talaga itong maitatawag?
Para sa mga taong inaasahan ng kanilang pamilya
Sally A Bayan Jul 2018
The sight of rain,
of wet clothes, wet plants,
wet doorsteps, wet hopes and dreams,
and, that known scent of sadness and grief
all these...create soggy, sluggish minds

we just lost two dogs to the virus
the glum of monsoon rains affects the moods
the "yays" from cancelled classes
have all passed...
sun is shining, not too bright, though,
peeps like a tease, but,
enough to dry the ground...

i see vacant lots...almost naked now
motor's droning hum is a lullaby
that lulls the mind
a strong smell stirs the nostrils and
defines a welcome pleasance...
i sniff....and chase away sadness,
with this intriguing scent
.....of freshly cut grass....


Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
    July 25, 2018
Sy Lilang Sep 2018
Bayani --
Sa tuwing nagtatapo ang aking kanang kamay at ang aking dibdib
Doon ko mas naisasaisip at naisasapuso ang pagiging isang Pilipino
Na hindi ako isang banyagang titirik sa malaparaisong lupain
At panandaliang mabibihagni sa mga likas na yaman
O mismong sa mga modernong Maria Clara
O mga aktibisang nagmistulang mga bayani
Sa kanilang walang pag-imbot
Sa pagsulong nang may paninindigan
Sa kani-kanilang ideolohiya.

Sa araw-araw kong pagbibilad sa araw
At pagharap sa bawat pagsubok na minsang nakapapatid at nakapagpapatalisod,
Ni minsa'y hindi ko pinangarap na gawaran ng mga salitang "bayani."

Dito sa aking Bayang, "Perlas ng Silanganan,"
Ako'y nahubog maging sanay at buo ang loob
Hindi ng mga kahapong idinaan na sa hukay
At nagsilbing bihag ng kasaysayan at rebolusyon,
Bagkus ng sariling karanasang
Nagbukas sa aking ulirat
Na may iba pa palang pintuan patungo sa kahapon.
At pupwede ko palang matuklasan
Na hindi lamang sa mga nag-alay ng buhay sa sariling bayan
Maihahambing ang katuturan ng mahiwagang salita.

Paano nga ba na sa bawat pagsilang ng araw at pagbukod ng mga ulap sa kanya
Ay maituturing ko ang sarili bilang isang bayani?
Nagigising ako na pinamumunuan hindi lamang ng isang pangulo
Kundi ng mga katauhan na siya ring nagbibigay kabuluhan sa pagrespeto ko sa aking sarili
At sa tuwing nag-aalay ako ng mga hakbang at padyak sa pampublikong mga lugar
Ay nahahaluan ang aking pagkatao ng mga abo ng mga nagtapos na sa serbisyo
At tila ba sa kaloob-looban ko ay may sumisigaw na hindi ko alam kung ano
At sumisira sa mga pintuang minsan ko nang sinubukang sipain
Ngunit hindi naman ako pinagbuksan.

Masasabi kong natuto akong hindi sumuko sa laban ng aking buhay
Pagkat ako rin pala'y may pinaglalaban
Hindi ko ninais na maging talunan sa bawat paglisan ng araw sa kabundukang minsan ko na ring inakyat at pinagmasdan
Akala ko hanggang doon na lamang ako
Na ang buhay ko'y hindi isang nobelang magiging mukha sa salapi
At pagkakaguluhan saan man sila magdako
Ngunit minsa'y limot na ang halaga.

Dito sa aking istorya'y hindi ko maipagmamalaking ako ay isang bayani --
Ngunit sa kabila ng paglaganap ng demokrasya
Ay nais ko pa ring makasalamuha ang kahigpitan ng hustiya
Nang sa gayo'y masilaya't malasap ko ring mahalaga pa rin sa lahat
Ang pagbuwis ng mga buhay --
Silang mga pinagbunyi o silang nilimot ng sarili nilang mga kababayan.

Gusto kong manatili bilang isang Pilipinong may dangal sa aking pagkatao
Na ako'y titingala hindi dahil ako'y nagmamataas
Bagkus sagisag at bunga ito ng paghilom sa akin ng may Likha
At isang grasya ang buhay na hindi ko nanaising itapon sa wala.

Hindi ako magbibigay-pugay sa watawat na walang kamuang-muang
Na ang aking laban ay tapos na.
Hindi ako magpapadaig sa lipunang maaaring bumagsak sa kahit anong pagkakataon
Kapag ito'y nakalimot sa Ngalang higit na tanyag sa kanya.
At kung ito ang magiging dahilan para ako'y maliko sa ibang ideolohiya'y
Lilisanin ko na lamang ang aking pagkatao --
Ngunit ako'y madiing magpapatuloy sa aking lakaring higit pa sa pagka-Pilipino
Kahit na ang mga tungkuling nasa harap ko'y hindi pa lubos na malinaw
Pero pangako --
Hindi ako titigil.

Oo, pupuwede akong magsimula sa wala
Pero ako ay may mararating
At marahil bukas o sa makalawa,
Kung tayo lamang ay magpapatuloy sa pakikibaka para sa ating mga paniniwala'y
Magiging higit pa tayo sa mga bayani.
At hindi mahalaga kung tayo'y limutin ng bukas
Gaya ng paghawi ng masidhing hangin sa mga ulap na emosyonal.

Ayos lang --
Pagkat sa likod ng mga kurtina nang walang humpay na palakpakan
Ay naroon ang tunay na mga bayani
Na hindi sigaw at mga pagbubunyi ang mithiin.
Hindi ginto’t mga pilak ang maibubulsa sa kamatayan
Bagkus ang makapaglingkod sa bayan na may bukal na puso't malinis na konsensya
At kalakip nito ang higit pa sa mga pamanang medalya ng kasaysayan.

Sa muling pagkikita, salubong ng ating mga ninuno
Ay mabubuksan ang ating pagkatao sa isang paraisong patay na ang kabayanihan.
Doon, sama-sama nating lilisanin ang ganid na administrasyon
At hihipuin ang galit ng lambing ng Liwanag na higit pa sa milyong mga lampara
At doon lamang natin lubos na maaakap ang pagiging isang "bayani."
>>>>                                    

                                       x
                                      x x
                                    x x x
                                 x x x x x                        
                      ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
   ­        ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
::::::::­::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::;::::::::::::::::::::­:::::
Never can it move::::like thunder or lightning
it goes slow, but sure:::::treading its own path
brave, strong and patient:::in facing its ordeals
they don't want to sting:::unless when needed
they want to be left alone::::but, alert:::::::ready
to protect and defend itself:::::with less action
when trapped or driven up a dead end:::::it is
more composed::::::it knows when to explode
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::­::::::::::::::::::::::
:::a scorpion, can quickly paralyze its victim:::
::::::::::::::::::::with its own venom::::::::::::::::::::::::;
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::­:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::;;
:::::::::::::::::­::::::::::::::::it is said,::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::;;
human beings have innate venoms or weapons
i don't know if i have one:::or what it could do
i only know, i can hardly harm anyone::::::::but
like any other creature::;;:::i will defend myself
::::::;;;;;;:when my safety is compromised::::::::;;
    :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::­::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
      :::::::::::::::::::: i am a scorpio ::::::::::::::::::::
          ::::::::::::::::what about you?:::::::::::::
               what could be your venom?
                 ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
                    ­ :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
                        :::­::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
                                x x x x x
                                    x x x
                                     x x
                                       x
                        



  Sally


© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
October 23, 2017
(just an old poem, guys...
just scribbling, while at the backyard, watching crawlers fighting)
Sunday night, past eleven,
signs and sounds of life start to wane,
all have gone to their corners,
tucked in their own sleeping spaces,
another night...another week ends...
from this dark silence,
shall emerge..........tomorrow.

i am not alone...yet, i seem alone,
i seek You again...

in my lamp-lit room, i worry about
tomorrows, laden with difficult tasks.
i don't know how...or, where to start,
how to go about them....yet, i must.
they are upon my aging shoulders,
they feel really heavy...

"why me?" some nights, i ask..."take
these tasks away," i say..........when mind
clears, i take back my wish...my question,
i am reminded: some have boulders to
carry........mine are just pebbles.
here i am....complaining at this late
hour......instead of giving thanks...

forgive my worrying, my selfish whining...
if i do wake up to see another  tomorrow,
i ask for hope and strength.....there's still
much to do.....my weary mind and eyelids
surrender....God, i need Your Light.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
:::::­::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
:::::::::::::::::::::
(Good night, everyone!)


Sally

Copyright Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
June 16, 2019
Sally A Bayan Nov 2018
......was a freezing morning.
no rooster woke me....i opened
my eyes at first light of dawn,
sipped hot coffee....my thoughts,
recalling....traveling, with the swirling steam...

turkey wasn't done yet,
but, hours before, table was already set...
while awaiting guests,
I leant on the counter...my head, to rest,
i looked outside the small window
and was greeted by a full moon, aglow...

there was so much food on the table...weariness
was healed by laughter...conversations touched
on weather, politics, food...they refused to end,
glasses sparkled with bubbly wine....sliced meat
was arranged on a big tray...baked sweet potato
with caramel smelled, tasted good...broccoli rave
was green and spicy...i didn't know potato salad
could taste good without meat!....coffee and pies
came next.....the dogs, communicated with their
eyes and paws...socializing, too, like their masters,
i saw what was left, after slicing the plump roasted
fowl...a skeleton, still with thick strands of meat, and
the  palatable stuffing made with onions and prunes.

dishes were washed, kitchen was back in order,
after showering....everyone rushed to their beds,
yet, i had to peep out the window, one last time...
the full moon, still was upon us...confirming its
presence....a long time witness to the moments
we celebrate........encouraging our moods,
our thoughts.....our hearts.......even when
it's not a thanksgiving night..


Sally

Copyright Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
November 23, 2018
(of Angkor Wat)



Two years after, i still think of that
forest, where an old temple stands...
most structures were 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
(TAngkor Wat is in Siem Reap, Cambodia)
Sally A Bayan Dec 2018
A colorful, blinking lantern
dangles by the eave's ceiling
green, red and yellow lights hung
outside the window, stilled at day time
but......dazzle the eyes at night

i am late... no pots of poinsettia
yet, to brighten the veranda

in the living room
the tree top is bare,
no pretty angel or a bright star
to complete its attire
mind is already set, decided, on what
festive foods should adorn the table
what gifts...to be laid under the tree
........all these occupy my mind,
........as every once in a while
i think of unfinished issues,
uncompleted tasks that nag me
.......problems i could not resolve
.......a few unfulfilled promises
.......to some....and to myself
some planned moments...failed
my targeted time....didn't work

Christmas eve is fast approaching
the house...is not yet fully decked...
i am standing.....and though i think of
these thoughts of incompleteness,

after all these years,
i don't care that much anymore

i just wish, it would be easy and slow
when things, or people have to go
i wish that love would abound,
to never cease.....the fires of anger
and hate, be doused and subdued....
i wish that all, including myself,
find wisdom in the serenity prayer...
i wish that we shift our eyes, our hearts,
away from material things...from power...
let us focus on Him...the true reason
for this festive holiday season......

may peace reign the world over
may it begin with you...and me...

::::::::::
Prayer of Serenity

God grant me the serenity
To accept the things I cannot change;
Courage to change the things I can;
And wisdom to know the difference...
:::::::::::::



Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
December 20, 2018
A BLESSED CHRISTMAS AND A VERY HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL OF HELLO POETRY, TOP TO BOTTOM...TO FELLOW POETS, TO FRIENDS AND TO THE NEWCOMERS...WELCOME TO HP!!! LOVE TO ALL!
Sally A Bayan Aug 2018
Ask...and you shall be given answers
seek...and you'll be told where to look
knock...say, hello?...hello? hellooow?
a voice named siri replies:
"is it me you're looking for?"
i think,
the eyes, the mind, even the heart, need
clear, goggle-like glasses, for 20/20 vision,
to grasp, to discern,  be forewarned,
not to be overwhelmed by whatever
data unfolds on the screen

they say, there are contrived solutions,
for life's every complication
search engines are accessible to all
just press specific keys, and, Voila!
surf, play...easy games, easy friends
but, can they really answer all questions?
every human question?.........like,
do elephants really cry? how did it occur
that they have excellent memories?
is Timbuktu modernized now?
are there still surviving cannibals?
will the remaining Bee Gees member,
tell us how to mend a broken heart?
do rosicrucians really possess secret wisdom?
what happened to you and me?
how do i save myself from emotional vampires?
how do i cook pad thai?
...and how do i get you out of my mind?
why does the rooster crow after midnight
how does logarithm work with poetry?
do dogs have souls?  do they visit their
masters?....i miss my dogs Misty and Tiny,
...and i miss you...what's wrong with me?
God, why do i even bother to ask?

my goggled eyes are blinded by grief
my goggled mind refuses to forget
this goggled life of mine feels empty
and it has nothing to do with technology...


Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
    July 23, 2018
.......just a poem, my poet friends:))
...a piece that resulted from rainy days and  mondays...and silly me :-}
.................just a poem.......:))
Sally A Bayan Mar 26
:::¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥:::

Easily, another week went by
11:30 pm, another day's end is nigh
gratitude fills my every sigh...
before bedtime, comes introspecting
...... always leaves me wondering :
:::::
did   i strew new seeds of love today?
did i water the growing ones that sway
so they may harden, spread and multiply?
:::::
did flowers of sympathy and understanding
grow within me this day?
did   i ignore someone crying
did i make a sad face  smile? beaming ,
like  those amazing wildflowers along the way?
:::::
there are nights, i could easily fall asleep
then there are nights that leave me in doubt,
my conscience and my thoughts  debate,  keep-
ing me awake....through  yet, another dawn
:::::
a new day, a new chance for my soul... to heed
a small voice ... to give flowers, to plant new seeds.
to  not trample on wildflowers and unwanted weeds...


Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
March 26, 2019
aL May 18
Sa aking inang bayan,
Pag asang iyo nga ba'y nasaan?
Kung ang tanging nakahawak sa binhi mo'y mga kawatan.
Ilang ulit nang iyong mga anak ika'y nasaktan

Ano nga ba ang iyong hahantungan?
Inang bayan,
Kung kaming tunay na mangiibig sa iyo'y nagkulang sa paglaban
Para lamang sana sa iyong nasa malayong kalayaan
Upang sa kabila ng aming bigat na iyong pasan
Makapamalas kami sa iyo ng kaunting katamisan
Para lamang sa iyo, harinawa, inang bayan.
Made this while taking a dump

#
Sally A Bayan Mar 10
/o\ __ /o\

This day's dry spell has ended...it's dark,
at last............comes dusk
the hours are too slow in their flow
all else, is in slow mo
fatigue disrupts the peace...mind and body
silently complain......the regularity
of endless tasks and chores
gobbles one's lifetime...beard grays with ****
the enthusiasm that wakes the soul
before sunrise, has turned to ennui...
in the morning, the coffee urn,
brews with discontent...

this thirst for change,
twinned with fear...seems strange,
excitement and apprehension
cling to the mind...like an infection...

imagination is fecund
temptation fills every second...

this farm, is life striated with difficulties
acres of land, haunted by inherited responsibilities,
how can one be exempted from traditions
and family  expectations?
there's just no pleasure
in so much work pressure
impossible, to ignore the enemies of leisure!
it's tempting to surrender...to just loll,
to abandon all...
yet, body and mind struggle...must keep going
every morning...

an intrinsic energy within, dispels whispers at night
it is fiercest, when a candle is bright with light...
.........................................


Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
March 11, 2019
Jessica Dec 2018
Pinas na minamahal
Lugar na aking sinilangan
Bansang kayraming yaman
Ngunit buhay ang kapalit
Nang sumigaw upang marinig
Pagkat nanlaban kaya dugo ang kapalit
Laban nga ba sa droga o laban sa bayan?
Ang tanging tanong na binabatid
Ang tanong na di mawala sa isip.
Ang yaman ng bayan naglalahong parang bula
Sa bulsa ng pamahalaan makikita
Bilihin na nagmamahal
Sa bibig na lang ng presidente ang mura
Sa atin pa ba ang bayan?
O kabilang na sa mga estado ng tsina at amerika
Mga kababayan na lumuluwas sa bayan
Makamit lamang ang kaginhawaan
Dugo, pawis at buhay ang naging kapalit
Ang kabataan nga ba ang pag-asa ng bayan?
Pagkat sila’y sa selda makikita imbis na sa paaralan
Sambit nila’y kulang daw sa disiplina at pagsisikap
Habang sila’y nagbubulag bulagan at nag-bibingi-bingibingian
Ano na nga ba ang katotohanan?
Saan na nga ba nakabase ang tama at mali?
Susunod ba sa pamahalaan o sumigaw para sa ating kinabukasan?
Sally A Bayan Jul 2018
(a cluster of 10w)
><
daylight glares...melts shadows
revealing those stilled,
and those living
><
puffs of breath
could signify a desire
to still exist
><
some breathe erratically
amidst suffocating airs,
fighting,
unwilling to die
><
there're those breathing,
but, oblivious of everything,
themselves......deliberately,
forgotten
><
senile...scared...lonely
committed to indifferent homes
left languishing
abandoned
><
no longer exhaling gratitude
for, they're considered
dead...and...gone    
><
what're they thinking,
when they're with that
loneliest faraway look?
><
while wilting in confusion...do thoughts
about tomorrow visit them?

....aiming....meaning to defy death?
to again, catch precious breath?
><
><
><


Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
  July 31,  2018
Years ago, my group and I visited a facility for the aged.
we brought food, drinks...and did tai chi with them...
There, I first opened my eyes....to grim realities about homes and family,
and senility.....and other issues regarding old age.
Sally A Bayan Jan 25
. . . /\ . . .
_______


Every ticking of the clock
there occurs some bad or good acts
they could be organized, or unkempt,
yet, nothing, or no one could pre-empt
our thoughts.....there's not a hint of rage
just questions on being there on a big stage,
called life, like a puppet...or pulling your own
strings...fighting abuse when that moment is born,
the fear to err...in making a vital decision
to reel, when marked as  a failed person,

who wants to be censured......or judged,
be disheartened by an **** smudge?

it's almost unwelcome, to hear scrutiny
wary of doors shutting on you, with finality

it's hard not to hear people's words
when they hit the ears
and the chest.............like swords,
a hostile wind.....a strange silence...are felt,
loud in their echoes,
........no human heart is ever made of pelt.

faith and hope
........embolden the spirit to persist,
to rise from all storms in life
...............to still exist...

when the winds blow nonstop,
............................is, i believe,
God's way of fanning the fires,
........................of our will, to live,
we  go on breathing
...................we survive......

Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
January 26, 2019

— The End —