Nagkadaiyang mga panan-awon sa nagkalainlaing higayon nga misantop sa hunahuna...
——A constellation of visions, each born from a different moment…
They came not as thunder, but as whispers of time,
Each a glimmer, a ghost, a gleam in the mind.
Moments untethered, like stars in retreat,
Spilling their meanings in silence, discreet.
A child’s laugh beneath a mango sky,
The hush of dusk as cicadas cry.
A memory flickers—warm, then thin—
Of ocean breath and sun on skin.
A doorway ajar in a dream once dreamt,
Where voices of old in shadows were pent.
The scent of rain on rusted tin,
A song half-sung in a house within.
Each thought a traveler, brief in its stay,
Brushing the soul, then drifting away.
They rise like mist from the fields of dawn,
A thousand yesterdays moving on.
But oh—how they linger, soft and rare,
Etched like gold in the evening air.
No path to follow, no time to reclaim,
Just echoes of light that forget their name.
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