Dream on!
By Emmanuelle

 It was in a dream that she saw them all. Not the souls nor the elementals. 

Them.

In the dream, she entered a room where she was made to grasp in her emptied hands a pen and an official form. She sat on a chair facing three miniature walls where names and pictures were posted. “All you have to do is write the names! Then and only then will you be free.” she was told.

Fearing for her life and whatever breath is left of her future, she willed herself to write. And there was no name to write.
      

At this point, the dream shifted. Voices swirled. And the following lines appeared on the walls:

      Someday

       when cups runneth over not

       with the sweet broth of joy but

       with bitter galls of sorrow;

       when tyranny reigns and

       free men bow before masters

       wielding twin-pronged whips;

       when dissenting voices fade

       and clenched fists unclench

       as life deserts even the bravest

       of the braves;

       when rivers trickle

       and fields wither;

       when milk to feed babes

       sour as a mother’s breast

       shrivel as she

       starves

 

       this child will be born

       this child will lead.

 

        and he will be borne on youthful shoulders

        surging through the shreds

        of their burst bubbles.

        seeds of our seeds

        ourselves reborn    

        these children of the morn.

 

        from our hollowed eves,

        this child shall build

        another dawn.

Then and only, did she find the names to write. Loren Legarda, she prints first. Not because Loren is a woman, but because in a world of men, she is more man than the rest of them. And if phones were never invented, Loren would have been vice-president, then president without question. She is owed.

For intelligence and still unsullied integrity, she writes down the names Dr. Martin Bautista, Attorneys Zosimo Paredes II and Adrian Sison from Nandy Pacheco’s Kapatiran on the next three slots. Joker Arroyo and Sonia Rocco, too. Kiko Pangilinan and Manny Villar, and not only because of their endearing lopsided smiles. And not too fast, Chiz Escudero. She blinks to clear some far and recent memories. Far wins. She writes down Tessie Aquino Oreta, for Ninoy. Also, no other senator aside from Tessie had bothered to donate to the construction of the hometown market. She insists to include Allan Peter Cayetano.

At this point, the dream shifts again. She finds herself in familiar, charted waters. She smiles then concentrates to write the name of the uncontested congressman who would rather take a walk with his team of engineers than with a public-relations team.

Then, before the dream unravels, she takes a swing by the hometown with the three-cornered fight among two former best of friends and a judge.

She wakes up!  

(For past columns, click http://sundaypunch.prepys.com/archives/category/opinion/feelings/)

Share your Comments or Reactions

comments

Powered by Facebook Comments