October 31, 2008
Loyola Memorial Park, Marikina
The weather was harsh. The light drizzle that eased the unbearable heat that lasted for days became a heavy deluge of cold needles shooting down from the sky. The peaceful air of the resting places became a chaotic calamity-stricken world where rain was the ammunition and the slippery and wet grass was the devastating effect. The merciless break of the heavens sent hundreds and hundreds of candles of all shapes, sizes, colors, and scents into the grip of the darkness. It was ironic that the candles kindled for the dead were dying in their own, little way. Most candles left alone to fend for themselves were extinguished almost instantly.
But after a brief but intense shower, the skies cleared up. Stars soon peeked amidst the chilly night sky. The candles that remained lit slowly started to burn with a renewed vigor. I found myself transfixed to the beauty of a candle's flame as more and more candles slowly regained its warmth, and its memories. I was soon surrounded by the warmth of an unknown presence as I sat silently under an old, old tree. It was the same tree that saw me burst into tears when I failed to keep all of my sadness to myself as we lowered Tatay to his final resting place. It was also the same tree which witnessed all my sorrow and tears when we were to bring Nanay to where Tatay and Tita Nene was. And I am pretty sure that was the same tree that watched an innocent kid wondering what was happening around him.
Then, it started to rain once again, as if the heavens understood what I was trying to say.
Loyola Memorial Park, Marikina
The weather was harsh. The light drizzle that eased the unbearable heat that lasted for days became a heavy deluge of cold needles shooting down from the sky. The peaceful air of the resting places became a chaotic calamity-stricken world where rain was the ammunition and the slippery and wet grass was the devastating effect. The merciless break of the heavens sent hundreds and hundreds of candles of all shapes, sizes, colors, and scents into the grip of the darkness. It was ironic that the candles kindled for the dead were dying in their own, little way. Most candles left alone to fend for themselves were extinguished almost instantly.
But after a brief but intense shower, the skies cleared up. Stars soon peeked amidst the chilly night sky. The candles that remained lit slowly started to burn with a renewed vigor. I found myself transfixed to the beauty of a candle's flame as more and more candles slowly regained its warmth, and its memories. I was soon surrounded by the warmth of an unknown presence as I sat silently under an old, old tree. It was the same tree that saw me burst into tears when I failed to keep all of my sadness to myself as we lowered Tatay to his final resting place. It was also the same tree which witnessed all my sorrow and tears when we were to bring Nanay to where Tatay and Tita Nene was. And I am pretty sure that was the same tree that watched an innocent kid wondering what was happening around him.
Then, it started to rain once again, as if the heavens understood what I was trying to say.
1 comment:
You're getting more and more poetic.
And I feel your pain.
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