He returns to these graves to see
Time and timelessness kiss epitaphs
Of non-being and feel the touch of presences
Alive with the warmth of recognition.
Have fire, water, earth, ands air
Transformed flesh and bones into haunting spirits?
Memory has covered all like a blessing,
And marked well where the living stood and cried.
There is a an end to breathing time,
Then a lowering into a pool of tears
Full of flowers and clouds and sky,
And faces of love remembering the green of grass.
For within this sacred circle
All are diameters intersecting.
[Cabagan, Isabela]
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem