BACK TO LIFE

By Leah C. Dancel 

When dead leaves of the trees fly down to the ground 

It's where my heart was lost but found 

I didn't seem to mind laying down 

To cover the ground to which my feet tread on. 

 

My soul has found a place to rest, at least for awhile. 

At springtime they shall fly back to the sky; 

Feeling recharged, the veins  invigorated; 

Leaves of the trees will come alive.

@Leah C. Dancel 

Poetic Comment at Awesome Australia May 29, 2021 

Copyright@2021 

Note : Inspired by the photographs of Nguyen Ngoc Hiep 

🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁 

Photo: Macquarie University 

Ryde NSW

Date photo taken: May 26, 2021

Versified Comment 

May 29, 2021

"Life gets born in April, becomes a child in May, then an adult in June, July will see him realize himself, but in August he will die, and in September, shall be remembered." ~Yesu Ben 

Me replied: The seasons indeed! You got them right for Down Under except I don't want to die on my birthmonth. 

TO COMMUNE WITH THE DIVINE

If he could only give words to this life he has lived,

It would fill up, span, the annals of

     human history,

For the journeys he has taken

      and lived

They speak of a thousand lives

      and not just the man he is 

      today.

But his is not the freedom to boast

Of the travels, the roads he’s walked  from east to west

In his grasp, there’s only the right 

      to choose

To live a man, or die, divine! 

So many crossroads in a life so

      complex, so true

As he looks at the water, there, 

       is his reflection

How come it does not show

The battle scars, the wounds, the

       pains of a thousand swords? 

He raises his eyes heavenwards

Eyes that question what his lives

       have been all about

Answers won’t come; they never 

       did.

But he knows. He knows.

His is the burden no one else may 

        carry

It is no one else’s. Only his to own.

In the midst of the waters that is life and the world

He is forever alone. His pains reach

        eternity. 

To live a man, to die divine, 

Much is the price; only he can 

        understand.

Up in the sky, a flock of birds fly on

Someday, when his time has 

         come... he too, will be up 

         there. 

At dawn, he will fly on.

Source: FB/Filipino Poets in Blossoms 

May 27, 2021

THE BOOK OF DREAMS

By Rado Gatchalian

Your thoughts are sleeping while

Everyone is awake;

If you are dreaming and wanting to smile

Sit on a rock and wait.

Do not worry if the mountain is so high

You fly not because of your wings

But because the wind is your bosom friend.

When you illuminate in the dark

Yet you still long for peace:

Open your eyes and know who you are.

When everything is lost and not found

Remember where you nourished your childhood –

In your sweet dreams when everyone was asleep.

A LIFE OF BLISS

By Hedda Tady 

If I were to live a life tucked away somewhere in these mountains, cocooned in the quiet that was life years past, would that be bliss? Would that spell happiness that’s forever? 

If I were to live in some posh villa somewhere grand, would that be freedom from the regular cares of this world, not needing to care about the basics to survive? 

Would I ever know? 

Would you? 

Do we ever get to have the luxury of knowing well ahead what truly is a life of  bliss? 

And isn’t it always, that we can only come to comprehend it all when we get there, 

when we fill up the shoes of that someone we thought we would like to be? 

Only to find out, realize, that such an existence may not be what we truly wanted, needed, thought it was going to be. 

Ahhh, man.... woman.... creatures of this earth, forever wanting what lies beyond the bend, whatever it is that’s hidden to the eye, elusive to one’s touch. 

Perhaps, the whole idea is - as it has always been told to us from the ancient sages to the most modern of mystics - that to have peace, we must savor life as it unfolds each day, to open our eyes to the beauty that’s laid down before us each morning. They are always there, hiding in plain daylight. But that it would take some investment in mindfulness and that we must learn to cultivate a spirit that’s excited to explore and discover, to see truth, beauty, bliss for what they are. 

And only then, will the secrets of the universe reveal themselves to our eyes - when we become quiet and simple of the mind, grateful in hearts, and most of all, welcoming to receive the secrets to life deep within our souls.

Source: Melancholic Revetie

WHY SHOULD I EVER BE SAD?

By Parker J. Palmer 

Why should I ever be sad,

knowing the aspens are 

always here dancing along 

this trail, slim as willowy 

girls, swinging their arms,

tossing their hair, swaying 

their hips in rhythm with 

the mountain wind? Above 

the aspens, intensified sky, 

a dream of blue seen only as 

cities fade from view. Below 

them a rocky slope covered 

with clotted clumps of leaves 

and fallen, rotted branches, 

laying down a love bed where 

Indian Paintbrush and white 

violets grow amid a flourish 

of green. All of the tumbled 

boulders and rocks have found 

their angle of perfect repose,

so why should I ever be sad? 

All of this waits for me when 

at last I stumble and fall,

waits for me to join in this 

dance with all that turns and 

whirls - a dance done to a

silent music of our dappled,

singing,  swaying world. 

A BUTTERFLY WITH PURPLE WINGS

(For Emily Dickinson)

By Rado Gatchalian

15 May 2021. 135th death anniversary of Emily

Let me not doubt your love —

Or let me openly love you in the air —

How shall I protect you against the Mad?

I will keep all your words in my heart.

As Time elopes with the sudden anguish of Wind —

Do not worry but — Fly — continue to Fly —

Until every child and soul quietly read and listen —

And ready to let you go, be free, and I say Goodbye.

BLACK HOLE

By Melany Amante Mabao Maguindanao 

Blank massive darkness hovers.... 

Like a blanket in an infinite universe. Boundless horizon as far as the eyes can see, A canopy that shields us from the truths of reality. 

I looked for the holes in this vast filter to see... 

What lies beyond the covering that limits me? 

Heartbeat after heartbeat galloping, 

Far beyond...a black hole is glowing. 

At the edge of time and space, 

Where we are all headed to singularity... That supermassive black hole awaits us, at the center of the Milky Way. 

Far beyond this life's short-term occupancy, 

A final spectacular destination to stay.

Contemplating the story of the universe... 

We shrink into trivial anonymity. Ignoring our ephemeral corporality... 

A deprivation of a rare opportunity.

 

Source: FB/May 1, 2019

HYMN TO STOIC BEAUTY

(For Percy Bysshe Shelley) 

By Rado Gatchalian 

You wake up with everyday’s extremes of not knowing and fully well; 

then when a broad daylight 

pierces your broken heart —

you look afar like a blind foe, 

you quit, and stop, and think, 

and listen to a music dear to a weeping child. 

When the past is a memory of shattered pieces: 

you dream for stars that shine in the shadow, 

but where shall you keep such glory when all hopes that nourish your soul become a dust hiding quietly in the dark? 

As you declare triumph over death: remain where you hide — 

where no souls can hear your voice, 

not even the anguish of your saddest poems, 

but when you arise after the third day and night, 

whisper the truth to all listening ears and tell them: “Be not afraid...” 

Now that you rebel against the tyranny of fear, 

revolt because right is always right, 

and love can never be opposed by silence; 

if only you come near to every dying poor 

clasp their arms and let them feel the warmth of a warrior whose only prayer is a hope that tomorrow everyone becomes free. 

As death comes nearer to a young poet, not everything in you shall die, 

but when you are forgotten 

do not pity nor weep endlessly, 

among the stars in the sky 

you glimmer beneath the clouds awaiting the twilight of joy, 

and you wrap your body among the gods whose desire is solely to celebrate beauty. 

Source: FB/The FILOsopher

BUT WE'RE NOT CARELESS CHILDREN

 "These days are dark and heavy and I wish the best for everyone..." ~Author

Photo and Words by Yesu Ben 

We are not careless children, we have pride

yet life is quickly crumbling on all sides...

and hope like yours, accord the Human soul

with scope, like billows on parched craggy rolls

of rocks that once were cultured living lands

until this shadow rose with rifling hands.

We cry, with voices once distinct, no sound

like slaves with masks and fear walking all 'round.

Bring me to meadows green, places I love

To be a man once more – once more to rove

and listen to the winds and seas that roar -

the happiness of youth I’ve known before.

Though few the years, I do not want that door

- indignity beyond and nothing more.

Whatever happened to that lofty dream -

Untruth! This evil lie, this wicked beam.

The hour is almost nigh, we’ll cease to be,

by Death, redeeming us, to perhaps see

a scene of bliss, and freedom, fiction gone -

With gladness real - with love, we aren't  alone.

Oh yes as far as I can go, yes I have fled

far from this cemetery of the dead.

Awake to a much greener world than this

and nearer truth, deep joy and perfect bliss.

Source: FB,  May 11, 2021

BUILD BRIDGES

Photo and words:

By Romeo Balingcongan

If only we can

Learn it fast 

What engineers

Have long known 

The best way to 

Build bridges 

To meet halfway 

Is the best

But we are all

Of high pride 

Source: FB, March 26, 2021

WHEN THIS VESSEL IS GONE

November 17, 2018

By Estelle Cortes

I struggle to find solid ground,
Where my knees won't shake,
And my heartbeats don't race,
Where hearts don't lie
For friendship's sake.

I struggle to find meaning,
To this very existence,
'Cause love matters as much as
My will to live-
A thirst to be quenched.

I don't need to look for my Soul,
It has lived a thousand lives,
Long before this lifetime unfolds,
It has fought battles,
And won.
It will linger on
And live again
When this vessel is gone.

~Estelle~

Source: FB,  May 8, 2021