Sammy, Sab-A Swamp, Leyte
A child looks at the world a pillar
Of plenty, remote from emptiness;
In the ephemeral of a dying star,
Splendor ends in forgetfulness.
One day the pillar will be gone,
As it releases the sleeping ancient sun,
Sparing silver for the woodsman's son,
And thirty pieces for the brawn.
While the rivers and rivulets run dry,
Orphaned from the mountain high,
Wouldn't Heaven rather send a sigh,
Than somewhere the young ones cry?
Light in the Woods, 1995 Megabooks