Tag: hope

Hinga, May Isa Pa

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Sa pagsayaw ng liwanag ng kandila sa ating harapan
Pakaliwa’t pakanang pagsabay sa ating bawat paghinga
Minsan inaakala nating patapos na ang problemang noo’y nagpahirap
Sa puso nating punong-puno na ng di magagandang alaala
Na may iilang natirang peklat katabi nang unti-unting naghihilom na sugat

Kaso sa bawat hakbang pasulong at sa paglapat ng liwanag
Dahan-dahang nagbabalik ang hapdi sa mga gasgas na naghilom
Na ipinanalangin natin nang taimtim na sana’y di na magbalik
Pero ngayo’y nagbabadyang muling bumukas at magpahirap
Na muling kikirot habang pilit nating huwag pansinin

Kaya yata talaga matalinghaga ang takbo ng ating tadhana
Minsan ang liwanag kasi’y natatakpan ng mga ulap
Na pilit naman nating itinataboy sa pag-ihip
Ng mainit na hiningang nagsasabing

Ako at ika’y buhay pa

Na ano man ang mangyari, may isa pa tayong panangga
Ang huminga at magpatuloy sa pagharap sa kung ano pang ibato ng tadhana

Matuto rin tayong magpahinga upang tayo ay makalaya
Ihanda ang ating mga mata sa pagmasid sa paglubog at pagsikat ng araw
Magasgasan mang muli, kumirot mang muli ang ating mga puso
Mabulag man saglit sa kislap ng liwanag ng mga nakaraan
Tayo ay magpapatuloy, may isa pa tayong hininga

Music Playlist for the Rainy Days

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Wild fire kisses the first rain drop
With the wind for the moonlight
Of ashes waving their final goodbye
As the rainy day comes for their welcome

Flames throw a great pas de deux
With the touch lingering in the heart
Of the prisoners of the dark
Praying for a savior in the light

This is the rainy day
To quench the thirst
To brighten the way
For those lost and dried
Out of ropes to climb
And hopes or smiles

 

Daily Clutch

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Memories flash for the person leaving the room on the East Wing
Clutching the ends of the last string connecting A to B
Of spaces and stories, of friends, lovers, and miseries
Looking for the perfect rhyme, opening the door to a great line
Praying for the light to come and stop the flight
Of feelings, pains, and all the lightness of being
‘Coz the trip home is the last stop for the best poem
That captures the heart, the essence, the dreams sighed out
Of the missed role of the poet, dying, lying, moving the last roll
That intertwines the paths of the living and the ones leaving

Midnight

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“I want to see a rainbow,” Abie said.

“Alright, tomorrow,” Mom answered while she was in bed.

“No! I want to see it today,” the young girl insisted.

“Don’t do this darling. Mommy can’t walk you there today. Tomorrow instead.”

“Why? You never keep your promise,” Abie ran out the door.

“Tomorrow.”

The lines went flat that night. It was the yesterday and today at midnight.

Abie woke up, smiled, and walked out the room.

“It’s beautiful!”

Dad came rushing out with red swollen eyes.

“Wh…What are you doing here?” clearing his throat in between.

“Mommy kept her promise. I saw the rainbow, Dad.”