Roses are red, not blue
Beautiful
Despite thorny stem
I am a daughter, niece, auntie, even ‘Lola’ to the littlest ones
I am letting go and also learning to let go
Bathala na
There are times for joy, laughter
There are times for painful bites, in the process to reconcile or maybe not
Aray!
Ouch
Learning to accept thorny stems
Adjusting to post-venus times of universal transits
Lolo babe shared that ‘The old ones cautioned us to appreciate and worship our roots, that the same root-power that connects us with earth and universe also connects the flowers in the meadow and the blossoms on the trees that turn to sweet fruit.’
The grander it gets, I feel the loss of tranquility
I somewhat prepared myself knowing that Bohol is one of the ‘hottest’ tourist attractions and yet I mourn the loss of a quiet province I once knew as a child
Lolo Babe shared: ‘The Elders said when traveling the earth, “Don’t turn a leaf or break a branch.” Carry yourself like a mountain lion in the forest.’
But Lolo, I’ve never been around a mountain lion in the forest. The closest is kitty jojoh in the backyard
Seashells at the seashore
Bonding with family at the seashore, in the dark lit up by a handheld gas lamp, smell the fumes as it shines brightly above the warm and clear water
Learning to pick shells and mollusks with my 1st cousin, Bodoy, whom I saw last time I was here for his father, my Tito frank’s funeral, (rest in power), 8 years ago
And with Ninong Ernie, my godfather, whom I have not seen since I was a child of 7 before we immigrated to the land of the ‘mighty’ U.S.A. for better opportunities. It’s also Ninong’s first time with learning this ‘activity’ that feeds many mouths, a daily process for survival to bring food to hungry stomachs
observing as Bodoy with keen eyes pierce small fish so small as it flip flops on his palm, it’s big enough to feed a hungry mouth but with western standards too small to keep and must return back to the sea
an eel hiding within the corals, caught with a homemade spear made with the plastic of a ball pen as a retracting hinge, a piece of round black rubber as the retractor and a steel rod with a pointed end that meets the death to this small water creature
Observing as the wind starts to pick up, erasing the calm waters and the hint of a wave makes it difficult to locate small water shells and creatures with the naked eye
But experienced eyes knows
Healing space
A fellow shell hunter yells from afar
Rain is coming as lightning flashes more and more
We sort of slowly hurry back, looking with each step not just for a prize but also for the banig (a bed) of sea urchins, deadly some are
Carefully wading with each step not to step on the poisonous red utom nor to spear fierce water snakes mistaken for eel; just let them go and walk another direction
Back at the port, lightning flash ensues briefly lighting up the southwest island shore, thunder, hear it come
Malakas na ang ulan. The heavy Rain pours down
on us
cool Water blessings from above
warm Water blessings from below
satisfying Drench
Run in slow motion towards the ancestral home
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Baclayon, Bohol
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