(Recurring Reflections And Beliefs)

Birthday after birthday
i keep looking back...
and find five girls always on my tail,
i see them as my regular paparazzi
when i am in my busiest moments,
when things work out adversely,
against all my best efforts
i find them still tagging along with me...

And then,
i look back at my most trying times
i recall those epiphanies that came to light my way,
how they guided me through,
until i was out of the dark tunnel...
.....until that MOMENT came
when i could hear with just one ear,
i have no regrets, though, or anger within,
for, i could still hear the leaves rustle
when a light breeze blows...
i hear even the dry oak leaves
as they hit the ground,
or when an empty plastic cup
is blown by the wind
from corner to corner of the street...
these days, i am more aware
of the bees buzzing on top of the flowers,
the birds, scattering seeds, helping
create new lives on the ground.....
i still clearly hear the hummingbird flapping its wings,
hovering, as it drinks from the bird feeder,
even as dusk sets in...
i hear the mockingbird...as it closes its wings
and roosts on a pine twig.....

One vital truth keeps me going-
i still have my one good ear
my eyes, my arms, my feet...
always, i am reminded of this question:
why did God endow us with two eyes,
two ears, two hands, two feet?
we lose one, there is still the other
in our daily lives, the same thing applies
among our loved ones and friends,
we lose some, we gain some....
some doors close, another one opens...
second, even third chances are ever waiting,
a fresh start is always there to be claimed...

In this stretch of my life,
i still am faced with choices on paths to take,
those once transitory thoughts
still visit and within me, they stir..
but, reason and good judgment
rise above all...

.....these things, i have realized---
most of what i wanted then...and didn't get,
i have now let go....
selflessness is inevitable,
there are people...things...to be prioritized
over  our own happiness
understanding is important
.....seeing myself here, now,
.....i am happy,
.....i am no longer there
still, i am glad to have been there...

When asked the most puzzling questions,
i have learned to turn
to the wisdom of the children,
i always, always have but one answer....
"...just because...".

At this point and time,
life, still is not perfect...
but i have known how to be calm,
as i face each new day...
perfect, or imperfect,
it doesn't matter anymore,
heart and mind have been honed,
for this knowledge overrules all others:

God is beside me, He is behind me...
He leads me,
He's got me covered...
i have nothing to fear...

(November 13, 2013)


Sally

Copyright November 2013
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

What if,
the moon and stars appeared on sunny skies
well, i've seen God's wisdom, they're fine the
way they are, their time, their distance, their
glittering presence.....their habit of twinkling
at night, not day, is  justified, they're lovelier
more dazzling on a darker  blue sky.....i gaze
at them in awe, no words uttered...just sighs.
also, i've
seen God's wisdom about life's many  roads.
i'm fine, i have survived......earthly existence
is decked with many paths........busy, or less
traveled...always lead to new ones, after the
other, then to another......life goes on.......it's
where, it's when, the day's challenges start.
so....
i leave the house...start my daily trek in life
prioritizing familial  and  personal errands
i walk right  to the corner.....to where noisy  
turkeys turn so red, when i get  close to the
fence...to my left, the open road.....peopled
noisy...busy, humming with activities...my  
connection to the world outside the village
rain or shine, day or night, if i need to hear
breaths of life...of noise,  a tad of change in
atmosphere, cups of good coffee, a bowl of
soup and crackers, bond with good friends
bond with my  Creator  in a nearby church.
when
not too tired...i retrace my way back home.
God guides me....through long  and  faded
red unscrubbed sidewalks, grasping mossy
fences, lest i fall on slippery concrete...lest
i miss my quiet, my sacred space for good.
it's
never easy, finding God's wisdom, in pain
and suffering.......yet after each road taken
i gaze at the dark blue sky.....tell the moon
and quivering stars................"i'll  be  fine."


Sally

Copyright October 18, 2017
rrab

It's almost mid-December
...no more november thrills,
....just colder winds that give me a chill
and, remind me of a kind of peace...a rural calm,
in the old country days...simple celebrations
and the natural beauty of hand-made stars
hanging outside windows of houses...
their low lights seem dots , yet....seen, from
farms, ricefields, and from the old chapel,
:::
the old chapel.....where people's most
ardent wishes, dreams and  prayers, rest,
the old chapel, which sounds so heavenly,
when "silent night," and "o holy night" are sung
....in the cold hours of dawn masses...

no one feared the dark...people were guided
by lanterns.......star-shaped and lighted...
white-painted wooden Christmas trees
adorned the small living rooms...small, but
filled with that holiday warmth, shared with
family, neighbors and friends...

in lieu of those humble huts, rows of
pompous concrete structures now stand tall
over once vast pasture-lands and rice fields,
mostly gussied up with expensive decors...yet,
......bereft of the true Christmas spirit...
...silent nights, are not so silent anymore...

my chest goes high and low,
the late november winds have blown
farther away,  taken over by the boldly cold,
yet, welcomed  festive airs of december...
i'm always happy about Christ's arriving,
i am sad.......the old ways...they're vanishing...

Sally

Copytight November 27, 2017
rrab

I see
the moon, in its fullness
surrounded by curls of clouds

I wait
...for the frog to croak
....in the mist of early evening

i wait,
but...it seems, there's no hope
in hearing its sad song tonight

i hear,
instead, the dark roof creaking
followed by calculated footfalls

and then,
i hear soft scratching on the gate,
soft voices......seem to be calling

i rise,
to see three stray cats lazily slouched
on the sidewalk, purring, looking at me

quickly,
i see this black dog....joining the crowd
its glimmering eyes...looking...asking

and through
the moonglow, and scant light from the
lamp post...i see its *******...all swollen

my God!
where could her puppies be? my eyes wander in
the dark midst of mango trees and banana plants

t'was fed,
along with the cats...black dog ran when its
share was brought there at the dark vacant lot

tonight,
as in past nights, time is slow as a snail,
while i.....am thinking over and over,

how i,
can bring that black dog and her puppies
to safety..........here in my own backyard

in life,
we're like horses rushing...stopped in midstream
by homeless cats, dogs, kids, old, disabled people

either
we keep running...............or, we screech
we halt...and allow them to touch our lives...


Sally

Copyright March 2, 2018
rrab

...........run long...
... seeming to end at one point,
........yet, in truth, they just go on
.............for, currents are ceaseless
.................they find their own paths
......................they symbolize continuity.
...........................r i v e r s .....r u n...l o n g....


(Harlon Rivers....you are your name)


Sally

Copyright August 30, 2017
rrab

---------------------
|----:--:----:---:---|
|    :    :    :    ­:     |
|   :    :    :    :      |
    :  _  :    : _   :

 ::::::::::::     ::::::::::::


Chilly wind kept blowing
steel poles  of the swing
felt colder to  the  touch.
earlier,
chained seats  moved  high up
voices shrieking crescendo-ed
seats went higher,
wind became harsher
motes of dust hit the eyes,
and were forced to close
:::::
::::::::
speed lessened, then came to a halt,
the shrieking....the hands scooping sand
the giggles, the laughter, the cheerful air
all vanished...except the path of shoe prints
rushing away....and marks of tiny fingers
struggling to grasp anything to hold on to,
desperately...even the sandy ground,
but in vain.
:::::
::::::::
loud whispers of the wind rock the empty swing
pained, terrified souls.....are hardest to comfort
a cold fear breathes.....invisible eyes, stay alert
trust fled into the air.......phones are yet to ring
minds drown in dreaded scenes
they freeze better sense
:::::
the chilly wind, blows on.
:::::
::::::::


Sally

Copyright December 27, 2017
rrab

/|\ //||//
the stillness of twilight, was disrupted,
thin, hushed raindrops, ....all of a sudden
became sharp nails hitting the roof
continuously,
heavy rain, now falls generously

the night...the dark firmament, they both weep,
shedding tears...they can no longer keep...
trees, houses...anything, anyone out in the rain
all are wet actors in tonight's masquerade
all are resigned...soundlessly, accepting rain.

their heads are bowed
subservient to the rain hitting ground,
performers, dripping all over
eyes, swollen from too much water,
laughter's gone, splintered smiles...scattering
in the dim air.......floating
like debris, from crashed stars...disappearing

the night's touch is cold...and bold...
but, in weakness, there's strength that holds,
the dark connives...moves in circles with the rain
hurting, comforting, reassuring, hurting again,  
touching back, again and again...
......until healing is gained

i saw myself on the glass window
i gotta get in from the rain
.....hide from wet shadows....

Sally

Copyright September 12, 2017
rrab

...kites, roses and apple pie
(A repost from 2014...edited)


In life, in deeds,
You have been, still are, courageous
In your words, in your creeds,
I say you are all so sweet,
Infectious,
You all are contagious!
Just a single line of your words
Would surely, quickly be re-quoted.
You are exemplary in
Whatever you say or do...

Enlightened are those with furrowed brows
Upon reading your works,
Commendations,
And acclamations
Bothered by ideas and words
So foreign and difficult...
Clarifications,
simple explanations
Readily are provided...
One need not ask...

Like well respected, learned leaders,
Actions, words are emulated.
You are sweet...
You are infectious...
You are contagious!

If you were colorful kites,
Soaring up the blue skies
You would have so many tails
Hanging, trailing behind you...
Here in our world
Your followers  are like ants
Trailing your footsteps...
Never straying, not at all waning,
But multiplying.....

In a bed of roses,
Bees, birds and butterflies
Would never stop fussing
Endlessly buzzing
From up above, and all around you...
Taking all their needs,
Not forgetting themselves to feed,
To recreate, from your seeds
these, they are bound to heed...

Now,  
If you were a plate of fresh,
Yummy and crusty apple pie,
With a scoop of ice cream on top..
Oh me, oh, my....
I may not forget these three men,
But....I am bound to starve...
Pardon me, but...
Surely, I would be oblivious
The first one to be ravenous
To the point of being outrageous
Can't stop...can't wait...
This is my moment:
As long as I have a mug of hot brewed coffee
I shall take my time...
I won't feel choked,
Won't even be thirsty...
Voraciously, I would finish the whole plate off...
Til crust and crumbs fill me with too much stuff...

::::::::::::

For the Triumvirate of Bala, Nat and Pradip...

in alphabetical order, no one comes first or last... for these three are
      all soaring high in their respective styles of poetry...

there are many others worth mentioning, a plethora of names and styles, in fact...
    


Sally

Copyright 2014
rrab

In the kitchen,
......fragrance is eclectic......in spices
fresh, some stewing with other ingredients...garlic
ginger, and bits of pork, and shrimp paste, blending
flavors in boiling coconut juice...sliced eggplants, cut string
beans, squared squash, and squash blossoms will be dropped
soon................in a separate pan, fish is deep fried...

joining this redolence, is
the smell of plucked sweetsop tree leaves, and dry grass,
touched by rain.....raindrops shyly tip-tap on the hot roof,
flowing down on the eaves, dripping sparingly, softly hits
the steaming creviced grounds....a hushed sound follows...
red, blue, brown, beige roofs adorn the graying horizon...
too early for thunder and lightning...gray clouds hang low
...more tears from Heaven threaten to flow

the front garden beckons...awaits to be rearranged
.....peach, purple, mauve and verdant colors surround
........there's music! the air is rich with a mix of sounds:
the neighbor's washing machine is running...cats are meowing,
purring, the rooster keeps crowing...seems, dog is vocalizing,
a pleasant crescendo...as water in the basin overflows...
...i could see invisible arrows, leading me...seeming didactic
...where to go, what to do, this morning so eclectic
...but.....
i savor what remains of a late breakfast of red sausages,
......and the smell of almost gone coffee...so pleasant, as
drying bubbles cling to the rim of the mug......electric fans
are turned towards the table.....to dispel hot, humid air,
........plates are ready......there is always cooked rice,
...........lunch is served.


Sally

Copyright August 27, 2017
rrab

::::::::::::::::::::::::


Nary a frog croaks
terra cotta garden lamp
selfishly, glows dim.

a striped gastropod
stretched longer, out of its shell
braver....in the dark

neighbors' dogs howl deep,
gecko sings its night songs loud
bats crash...swoop their prey.....

unseen black cats cross
there's no wind, yet...leaves rustle
shadows multiply

the dark feeds the mind
superstition lives...it breathes
moon hides...........i shall, too...


Sally

copyright September 22, 2017
rrab

::::::::::
in stillness...in what appears to be quiet
so many things take place...
there's buzzing, hearts are pounding,
faraway drums beating, like thunder, blaring,
in a soundlessness that reverberates,
:::::
       no one can tell when dewdrops fall
      not a sound permeates the air
      they have long been nourishing,
      moistening the grass of the earth, yet,
      no one hears, no one sees, how, or when...

       the leafholder, without a fiber of speed
       in its body....devours a whole leaf,
       there is no chewing, or munching heard
       even when watched, it gives no sounds.
:::::
my purple dendrobium proudly
shows new flower buds with such calm,
from the base of the cattleya orchid, young
green roots take a grasp on the driftwood.
how, or when these took place,
i really didn't hear, or notice.
:::::
      on the street, a humble, lightweight
      house spider, with less than eight legs
       suddenly moved....like tumbleweeds,
       rolling with the blowing of a gusty wind,
       a crawling see-through ball,  entangling
       fallen strands and tiny strips of street dirt,
       i almost stepped on it,
       i didn't notice....i didn't hear...

      the faucet leaks...pail is nearly filled
      there's a gap of many seconds, before
      each drop falls and touches the surface
      of the rising water...too long....most often
      too late....when heard, and noticed...
:::::
so many babies...young children disappear, they
pass away...adults die from many unacceptable
causes......some self-inflicted...some make it normal
an entry into statistics....read, heard, with passing winds...
:::::
we live in this noisiest of planets
every nook, every part, occupied
yet, significant parts of this world....of our life
remain unheard...........unnoticed.

      "i look....but i don't see...
        i listen.....but i don't hear."



Sally

Copyright October 28, 2017
rrab

<3  <3  <3

L-ove of my life
I-s a
S-ong
T-hat plays on in my
E-ars and head, without end
N-othing else is

H-eard...or felt
E-xcept that sound....its fragrant
A-ir...moist with mist...a caress on my face,
R-enewing  my strength, with its
T-unes, so sweet.........this song,

I-nsists...it wants me to feel its energy...a
T-ender  touch on my
S-kin, that clothes my whole being...like a

V-estment...with warmth reassuring...that of an
A-ngel.....with a haloed collar, bright...to guide, to
L-ight my way...my view...my heart, here on
E-arth...each day..........don't fail me, my love, i am
N-eeding...when you are nowhere...but when we're
T-ogether.....nothing, no one else exists between us...for
I-n the space within your arms...i am home
N-urtured...by your
E-ndless flow of verses....i am cuddled...i am
S-hielded..........in my dreams, you have no

D-eath...and so, i, too, have no death...i am kept
A-live........undying........sustained by
Y-our breaths of love, through your poetry <3

Sally

Copyright February 13, 2018
rrab

Happy Valentine's Day to everyone!!!

(1)

                    An Open Door....
          
.....invites you, to move your feet...if you agree
you'd metamorphose from an old self, to a new one,
an open door brings in light...it's a portal, for sun,
air, wind, even fire......presences......emotions,
so they may slide in and out, easily...

in many ways, YOU become the door,
either you allow, or you refuse entrance, to
some knowledge, an opportunity, a flow of art,
an energy...or people...or deep hidden feelings,
could be a love that knocks...when time is right,
it flows beyond control, there're no barriers, no
hurdles...only wide spaces and clear pathways...
heart and mind are willing...no more holding back,
.......never mind, if there'd be half-open,
.........or half-closed moments...
::::::::::::::::
time...gives way for what is meant to be,
..........energies conspire
...molecules grow together into one mass...
...ideas meet, merge into one whole thought
or theory....allowing a glow to flow, and rule,
::::::::::::disregarding:::::::::::::::
the creaking and squeaking of the door jamb,
the broken ****...the loosely ******* hinges...
:::even the lowly moss, stubbornly clinging
to the edges of the tiled floor of the veranda,
the vine-y, bushy passion flowers growing wild
on the trellis, they both look perfect...to one
inspired, to one in love, nothing could be amiss,
....all become negligible...dispensable...
.....you show willingness.....to cope with
..........i m p e r f e c t i o n s.......


                         (2)

                        If I...

........were moss, i'd silently
fill the surface of my chosen ****** panel,
my concrete wall...my loved one, in hues
of green...coating its rough-surfaced gray
with tiny growths, so cool to the touch

i'd shield his sturdy, cold and moist body,
my tiny green leaves would be his slipcover...
inseparable, we shall be....i'd be grateful
for, he gives me a home, my habitat.....

.......i'd be the door to his wall...

.....when his existence is threatened
......i'd face all....go down with him
......break into pieces with him
......he and i...stony concrete and moss...
.....would recreate...start all over again,
......he...the wall toughened by seasons
.....and i....the door to his edifice..



Sally

Copyright September 3,, 2017
rrab

::::::::

...measured footsteps were hushed
....but the floor squealed and creaked
......door slowly, carefully was opened,
.........the hinges...all but squeaked...

cool sea breeze rushed in,
through the glass windows
...and half-opened door,
...stoking the ember of a cigarette
...resting on an ash tray....barely half-smoked...

flowered curtains danced and swayed
cigarette smoke snaked......and spread
within the small space of the sala,
white smoke...blended with the room's gray mood,
...and the low lamp glow.....while on the radio,

Miles Davis' "Smoke Gets In Your Eyes,"
........................played on...

there was too much noise
in the silence  that wrapped
the cottage........thundering...yet,
unheard, by the lady seated on the floor,
silent...with a cold gaze...agape...though, not
of splendor...from the creamy full-moon above,
her one hand, a few inches from her throat
that hurt so much....fingers reaching,
...towards her slim, silky neck....gasping,
....catching precious breath
'til there was no more......just death...
smoke was fading,
from the cigarette's dying ember...

.............radio was playing,
................"Every Breath You Take."



Sally

Copyright March 12, 2018
rrab

...words,  at times,      f
                                       a                    
                                   l
                               l

                          in   a    

                        c
                      r
                        o
                             o
                                  k
                                e
                            d
                                  row...


when gathering thoughts
when establishing a message
when trying to put words
in their right places
...they sometimes end up
............in   w e i r d    spaces

..................r h y t h m    
is messed...it's neither a poem nor a hymn
.....falling backward
..........it sounds   a
                                    w
                                k
                                     w a r d

......everything else doesn't     j i b e ...
...........time is not ripe....
the poem's moment...is yet to arrive...


        Sally

Copyright November  5, 2017              
rrab

When smiles become too often
...and things tend to be more than alright
.....when little mistakes seem tolerable
........and the past don't feel too pricky,
............when heart beats smoothly, calmly
................when things become too sweet,
...................and so sugar-y............is when
........................i start to worry...



Sally

Copyright August 2, 2017
rrab


(some nonsense from last year)

(3:00 AM)


Just a few hours of sleep not a fiber of strength felt  in a body lying supine the mind so awake a rapid flow of rebelling ideas could not be contained thoughts quake needing a break in the dark of this 3am morning with the ipad providing light the body seems to languish in its own inertia only the chest rises and falls in silence behind the hills sunday dawn glows

Sally

Copyright October 1, 2017
rrab