By Virginia Jasmin Pasalo

 

I woke up late, I haven’t slept. It is as if a part of me wants to remain awake despite my body needing to rest. I headed for the rooftop, I was alone. Everyone is still asleep at this time, or wallowing in bed. This morning, the wind remained in its own space and did not move around the leaves; it didn’t dance around with me. A lone bird perched on the rail for a few seconds and left, unhurried.

From where I sat, I could see the vehicles in the North Luzon Expressway (NLEX) and hear the rumble of the train’s engine, anticipating the screech of its brakes as it slowly approached the Balintawak station. Far beyond, only smog, where Mt. Arayat stood calmly, on a clear day.

On a clear day, immediately after sunset on May 27, I was mesmerized by the essence of the horizon: “I went to the roof deck to exercise and lose some weight, but I was distracted by the blue sky. In between the brisk walk, I took videos and photos, as those around me wondered if we were safe, considering there had been an earthquake earlier. From beyond the shore, I saw ships, looking as littles as black ants, and I thought farther away from where I stood, all of them will be invisible, including the sea. I ponder my own life, and whether it matters at all if I lose a few pounds.”

Marian Eikelhoff commented, “In the eye of eternity all our sorrows become trivialities …”.  I realized that even in my own eyes, how insignificant our cares are, viewed from the collective concerns of all humankind. Despite this fact, in the face of uncertainty, everything else becomes insignificant as we focus on our own sorrow, especially when we are confronted with our own mortality.

Alone, viewing the vast horizon, I hold on to your presence, even in your absence. Relationships evolve, they do not end, even if we think so. They thrive in the mind and in the heart, and the specific imprints become a part of you. I wonder if our present relationships are parts of our lost selves, coming back to piece our fragments together.

 

Still

I hear you
a voice from the highway
as you hit the road
to the northern sky
It does not matter if the words
are unclear or garbled
on a dead spot, I hear you
speaking, without the need
for words

in this quiet unity
all noise disappears
recede in the background
transforming the words,
blending, becoming
a song

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