Everything is as it was in his beginning,
And distance from him was no excuse for change.
Even the dead are alive in the living,
Knowing his return to his fathers’ rain and sun.
Now is a vision strangely beautiful
For he is taller than the earth that bore him,
And whatever else she gave, all turn
To his eyes and approach to love his hands.
It is in a circle he has travelled
To break the circle, he learns in silence.
And he is right on time, for the river
Would conquer the town for the waiting sea.
Before the dying is no promise of a second
Meeting now that he knows the way it is.
[Cabagan, Isabela]
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem