You were once grass leaves
along the cliff
spread around the rock
where the two of us leaned
You heard our giggles
when in secret
we mocked the moon’s
rough and bumpy face
You also heard
the popping sound of the breeze
as it pushed our bodies closer
to each other
Some of you bent lower
as the two of us
brandished our bare feet
towards the trembling sea
that tries to mirror
the restless stars above it
You were witnesses of our pride
as our gestures showed
that we think nothing so perfect
but our fondness for each other
Not the coarse-faced moon
Not the noisy breeze
Not the fretful sea
Not even the twinkling stars
that appear hesitant to shine still
Nothing else so perfect
but our fondness for each other
And now
you are made into a paper
with all your loyal fibers
holding on together
You remained witnesses
of our pride
when in secret
each of us crumpled
a piece of you
to be softened like a cloth
that would wipe our tears
Each of us crumpled you
to soften the written letters
that composed that word
You remained witnesses of our pride
as we walked towards
the opposite poles
pretending not to realize
that nothing really is perfect
Not even our fondness for each other
—-
Paul Randy P. Gumanao is a sophomore taking up BS Chem at Ateneo de Davao University.
i like the grace of the language. lovely!
thanks for your appreciation.
i like how the language compels the reader to somehow “participate” 🙂
That’s how good poetry should be.
It’s addressed to trees!
I think the piece is very timely, with the Ondoy disaster being blamed on the lack of trees. I also like the way you mock the conceit of humanity here. great work, Paul!
inindayog ako ng bawat taludtod. ^_^