tide. San Luis, Batangas.
Hidden craving in a womb the second time around,
when in retreat to where we first came from;
comfort of a mother, comfort of nature, big or small,
reminds us to keep this primordial role.
I imagine myself to be the lady in the hollow of a tree,
among creatures that welcome her visitation;
I imagine myself to be the benevolent Brugierra tree
speechless in its joy to be the host of humanity.
Comfort our world never fails to provide the needy,
or in joy, the common language of the living;
when carefree, in abandon, when mother and child
are one, the earth and her children in unity. ~