"This morning I met silence" and other poems

Selected Verses from "USTogether"

A Thomasian Faculty Anthology

 

"While power leads man toward arrogance, 

poetry reminds him of his limitations." 

- John F Kennedy as cited by the late Dean Ophelia A Dimalanta PhD, UST Arts and Letters in the book's Foreword, ("USTogether" A Thomasian Faculty Anthology by 

Professor Erlita D Mendoza, March 1998). 

Paintings by Dr Abe V Rotor

This morning I met silence

Armando F. de Jesus, PhD 

Dean UST Arts and Letters

In the dark mists

this morning I met silence.

What soothing voice!

This morning

silence has sounds,

darkness has light.

To hear sounds, one must be

steeped in silence.

To see light, one must be

enveloped in darkness.

I saw light in darkness.

I heard sound greet me

from silence.

                                       

Morning by a Nymphaea Pond in acrylic by AVR

In mornings like this,

silence stills the noise I hear within.

Darkness tempers

the blinding light of my knowing.

In mornings like this

there is calm.

I have peace.

        A View of the Valley

Mountain Stream in acrylic AVR

The valley's still, the fog is thick and gray,

Many a dream is born and gone astray.

A beacon beaming once, now ringed with light,

Where once a moth has died in a spirited flight.

It keeps eternal whisperings as the wind passes by,

Bringing sweet memories and new promises,

Where a beacon beams though now ringed with light,
Where another moth dies in another flight.

                             Abercio V. Rotor, Graduate School

Washerwoman

Today, I'll wash

The robe of emptiness

Until it is sun-bleached white

Scrubbing blotches of splitting

Afterthoughts, pain rubs hard

Against the lesions of wrinkled

.Ashen hands hurting repeatedly

Upon each stroke of reminiscence.

It's half done now,

But  the suds still billow

Into cumulus froth, bubbles hide

All residue of misery

I wring tightly this orphan feeling

Till every longing drips their last.

I’ll hang my heart to dry

Sheet clean in the long line

Of forgetting and forgiving.

•                    Ferdinand M. Lopez, Arts and Letters

Scavengers

(Manggahan Dumpsite.Quezon City)

Many years ago

You had another name,

Gleaners, and work was also game.

Now it's all work

And the art of the vulture,

And those with fangs and ugly mane.

But if none is waste and waste is useful

Would your breed thrive just the same?

              Abercio V. Rotor, Graduate School

 Quiet

The morning failed

to keep its promise of rain.

The sun shone

across the silent

sober place.

And standing idly

in this half-reflected

gleam,

I felt a nameless,

unfamiliar cheer:

A pleasure secret

and austere.

      Nancy N. Tabirara, Arts and Letters

Fishing after rain in acrylic AVR

Paskong 'El Nino

(Ang bawa't pasko ay paskong el nino

sapagka't ang dahilan, buod, at puno't dulo

ng ating pagdiriwang ay ang pagsilang ng sanggol na mesiyas:

EI Nino Hesus )

Nawa'y gawin ka niyang mapagbigay

Tulad ng Ulan,

Dugtong-dugtong kung pumatak

Bagama't minsa'y ambong-Iuha lamang.

Nawa'y gawin ka niyang malaya

Tulad ng Ilog,

Walang patid kung dumaloy

Bagama't minsa'y usad-estero lamang.

Nawa'y gawin ka niyang mapagmahal

Tulad ng Dagat,

Walang maliw ang debosyon sa dalampasigan

Bagama't minsa'y lambing-alon lamang.

Nawa'y gawin ka niyang mapaglikha

Tulad ng Lupa,

Bawa't patak ng ulan, daloy ng ilog, alan ng dagat

Ay nagiging salita sa kanyang sinapupunan

Isinisilang sa daigdig

Bilang bulaklak at luntiang kariktan.

                          Rolando V. dela Rosa,OP

Kaingin

There is loneliness

In gazing at mountains

where many trees die.

The hills glisten red, then blue.

The rains will bring

tears of mud.

(But until then .. )

Where have all the flowers gone?

The avalanche of fires

will overcome wanton caterpillars,

there is no place for butterflies

this time.

Flowers, trees

sigh -

they wither,

they sputter,

and then lie

in homage to the sky.

Smoldering,

crackled splinters

of lives once spent.

Requiem to a Fallen Log in oil by AVR

The winds cease their whispers

as dying embers are laid to rest

at passing of the day.

In requiem,

finally.

          Rodel E. Aligan, OP

Be Thou the Stewards

Harvestime in acrylic AVR

In the beginning

The earth was bare

And Chaos ruled.

And then a gentle gaze,

The tender voice of Love

Brought forth the rolling hills,

The shady woods,

The lambent murmuring seas,
The placid lakes,

The gleaming galaxies,

The glowing dawn and soothing twilight .

Man and woman .

Then flowers bloomed!

And the voice of Love

In solemn admonition rang,

"Be thou the Stewards of these gifts."

In the silence of our hearts

We hear this truth.

As guardian of these bounties

We must preserve,

Conserve the affluence of nature,

Tranquility of woods and forests,

Protect the lakes and seas.

And then we can indeed rejoice

And say, ''I've done my share!"

Elena P. Polo, Science ~