by Alejandrino Hufana
| Poro Point, San Fernando City, La Union, Philippines |
The Rock still roots the water
Tauter than the boy in the channel
That marks where men-of-war should enter
And avoid the shallows of the turtle
The lighthouse eye puts out. Today’s communion
Is in the pulpit of the machine
Now when all owes it religion
What adventures had the aborigine?
One make-up moment to be emperor
In this haunted hamlet on the coast- Fishers foam-furrow the equator
To homage at a trading post
Now when divinity is frail
Between the radar poles and the wishing well
To beat the mind to a bell
In brethren’s bones with the sunken sail
As if from rising bottom, sound of sand
Spills out cargo and conqueror
On seven sights of land
Far from either rock or buoy
Like a prayer’s amen, and ahoy!
The brief bed of he whirling whore,
The sunbath, the pinpointed star,
And the native full five-strings deep in his guitar
Sermons how to suffer
Now back to feed the lamps their fuel
While the rock still roots the water
Tauter than buoy in the channel
Copyright © 2014 by J. Estoque
All Rights Reserved
