Open Door Poem by Cheryl L. DaytecYañgot

(for James Balao)

I keep looking toward an open door

One night I saw your vivid silhouette
I gingerly reached for it as it crystallized
into a figment of my constant imagination
Must you know about the muffled cries
That punctuate the serenity of night
Or the darkness of promise set against
The backdropp of daylight?
Your sick mother sits in her wheelchair
Oblivious to your disappearance
She keeps asking you to scratch her back

Sometimes, hope looms large
In the prayers of the multitude-
The peasants, students, lawyers,
Teachers, workers, friends
Searching every corner for you
But the torrent of angry typhoons
Dissolves hope so tenuous in its tears

Yesterday, the sun was shining bright
Your friends came. We brewed rice wine
In your grandfather’s prized Ming jar
Our ancestors drank tapuy to celebrate
The old rice is very red, almost violet-
the ones from Kalinga you always liked
We looked at your old photos, writings
Remembered your words, your passions
Your love for truth, justice, equity, honor

Alas, I woke up this morning
To the sound of strong rain hammering on the roof
Droplets of rain are wetting our creaking floor
From the hole you did not patch last month
You missed that or planned to patch it later?
I sit by the window hoping the rain peters out
And sunshine crawls its way inside your room
The radio just announced that six miners
Trapped inside tunnels gave up the ghost
But ten conquered death, shaming the typhoon

A lot of work still needs to be done
My son, the door you left without a word is open
It will remain open until you return.

(James Balao, a Filipino activist for the defense of life and ancestral lands of the indigenous peoples disappeared on 17 Sept.2008. His mother is bedridden and his father has embarked on a difficult search mission with other activists and concerned sectors.)