THE PROMISE by Tracy Chapman

I do not know why I lose my voice somewhere each time I sing this song. I could weep for this.

I will die being in love with love- the love that liberates, that gives without taking, that is patient, kind and forgiving, that makes the poets itch for their pens each time they think of it.

COUNTRYSIDE BEAUTIES

These breathtaking pictures are not mine. They were sent to me by Leonor Mondata. Although Leonor is London-based, these pictures are of the Philippine countryside.

FROM SON TO FATHER: WORDS UNSAID NOW SAID

I am violating a cardinal rule in this blog: Every entry must have a picture. I have to suspend the rule to give space to beauty which, though not visible to the eye, is felt by the heart. This beauty is the love of a son expressed in a poem by Butch Espere (aka Alex Munoz) for his father whose birthday is December 7. His old man died three years ago. Butch says that the words in his poem "cry to be said."

The poem touches a raw nerve in all of us for we are all children. And many of us may feel pangs of regret for words unsaid to our parents. The regret may even be deeper when the parents are already dead and rectification is foreclosed.

Parents who will be privileged to read the poem will understand their children more. I hope it resolves those little nagging issues between parents and children, and narrows if not closes the berth that comes from generation gap, ideological divide or whatever cause. I am warning you: this moves you to tears as it is beautiful.

A DINNER WITH FATHER
(For Papa, with apologies to Jun Canizares)
by: Butch Espere

You were just an embrace away
but the peal of forks and spoons
scooping crumbs on our dinner plates
were so thundering, echoing a distance.
And I wonder if you’d notice it like I did
when we reached for a glass.

Well, maybe you wanted to spin something
maybe about the weather, or some fairy tales,
or any yarn or songs of love or filial piety.
But I remember we’re always like this
since I was twenty when writing underground
manifestoes and lightning rallies and the brute

truncheons of class enemies took away
the innocence for this drifting apart. I waited
for the words to come as we drank our glass
and stared at the infinite space between us,
at a universe that has no answers
why subversion is a necessary thing.

Then you stood and headed for the anteroom
without as much a bidding, your footsteps
stretching away the poles that were you and me.
I heard a heart-surge, seething within,
pained and trying in vain to abort this parting.
Silently screaming, “This one’s for you all!

And I love you!"... I honestly love you.
120708/quezon city

ANNIE'S SONG by JOHN DENVER

This is one of the most beautiful love songs ever written and sang since the world began.

HALSEMA HIGHWAY SIGHTS

Teaching is a very rewarding experience that it is not work at all. And you get paid to "not work!" But university life has its moments of drudgery, I suppose, especially for people who spend most of their time in school. Too much play, like too much work, can bore Jack and Jill.

And so in October 2008, members of the faculty of St. Louis University's Department of Political Science and Social Sciences traveled to Mt.Province. We were with Dr. Joyce Fernandez, our favorite Associate Dean and Prof. Jose Alangwawi, our Department Head.

We started from Baguio City at past 3:00 A.M. It was a good decision because we witnessed the break of sunrise along Halsema Highway.

The colors were not the same everywhere. In one part, there would be more blues than orange-reds. In another, there would be more hues of yellow-orange.

But that is the beauty of nature- it is not always the same, but it is always breathtaking.

IN THE LAUGHTER OF A CHILD (II)

Whenever I see my bashful baby smile in delight without restraint, my heart leaps. It leaps even more when I know that I contributed to the cause of her happiness. You see, working mothers with so very little time on their hands must suffer from such huge guilt complex over their inability to spend as much time with their children. I know the feeling. So I cherish every time I have with my baby girl. While at work, it gives me relief from stress to remember her mirth.

When I took Gawani to a vacation in China, Hongkong and Macau for almost two weeks last October to November, she was very happy. Although she had a few tantrums which is normal for a baby her age, she was a very amiable vacation companion. Since she is now a very good reader, she took charge of reading the maps and made decisions as to where we should or should not go.

Every time we would go to a place, she would ask me if I ever took her two older siblings (Dinney and Lugat) there. If I answered in the negative, she would say, "Mommy, let us take some pictures here." When we returned home, she would say to the brother and sister: "We went to (this or that place) and you never went there."

My bedimpled daughter is truly a thing of beauty and a joy. Forever.

BEAUTY IN THE LAUGHTER OF A CHILD

 Gawani in the Shenzhen Safari 

Gawani in Disneyland

                                                      Gawani in Ocean Park

What could be more gratifyingly beautiful than the laughter of a child who appreciates what little thing you did for him or her?

My baby, Kathlea Francynn Gawani, rewarded me with such laughter when I took her to an almost two-week vacation. In spite of my misgivings about the "disneyfication" of our children's consciousness and the dangers it can cause, I took her to Disneyland -Hongkong. We also took a trip to China. She had a swell time.

My baby is a neglected one. I am a busy person and she has to fit into my schedule (Hah, imagine saying that your own child has to fit into your schedule as if she is an agenda!?!). I am sure she savored every moment I was with her, when she was the focus of every bit of my attention.

This is something beautiful, don't you think?

AUTUMN: BEAUTY BEFORE DEATH

Amsterdam, The Netherlands (Photo by Cheryl Daytec)

Suddenly, the green leaves metamorphose into red or yellow or a combination of several colors. It sure is a delight watching the beautiful uprising of shades. The irony though is that the leaves looking more vibrant than they could ever be or we could ever hope them to be are gasping for their last breath, awaiting their fall.

I envy autumn leaves. We humans can only hope to be our most beautiful before we join the earth.


Let me share you a poem I wrote about autumn:

Beauty Before Death

Trees dance with colors like discotheque lights
through mists of white descending from the heavens
The light about to travel to another world hesitates,
begs for more time to kiss the vivid autumn shades
like a thirsty traveler who cannot drink enough from
the spring of sweet water in the heart of the desert
But it must go and its farewell walk alters the landscape
Into another dazzling form that holds my gaze
There is an orange fire in the sky, that seems to herald
A gaiety of every form blessed with magnificence
But tomorrow, the leaves cleaving to the proud twigs
Will tumble stupefied on expectant dull earth
Multihued petals will drop down on a pile of decay
In every corner frozen branches and twigs will cling
To the trunks like the near-dead rejecting the grave
Trees will stand like ghosts too unhappy to haunt

For now let me stay mesmerized by the sight before me
With Mont Le Blanc ahead and Lake Geneva behind
Let me forget that this soul-entrancing beauty
Is a flamboyant prelude to the colors’ sad demise.

AUTUMN: A RIOT OF COLORS

Montreaux (The Jazz City), Switzerland. The lake in the background is Lac Leman. (Photo by Cheryl Daytec)

At this time in my own Baguio City, Philippines, it is raining in the afternoons. No problem with that. At least, I get free water for my garden. In some parts of the world, people are enjoying a riot of colors in the surroundings while they shiver in the cold.

Autumn (or fall to the Americans) never happens in the Philippines which has only the wet and dry season. How do I best describe this magical moment? Perhaps sharing pictures of autumn will do the job best.

Zuerich, Switzerland (Photo by Fred Labfayong)
Geneva, Switzerland (Photo by Cheryl Daytec)

Santis, Appenzell, Switzerland (Photo by Cheryl Daytec)

AND THE GRASS STAND PROUD

I took these pictures outside the Cagayan Provincial Jail.

ISABELA SUNRISE

Last time, I posted pictures of an Isabela sunset. This time, I am posting pictures of an Isabela sunrise. The pictures were taken more than a week after I captured that Isabela sunset with my Samsung camera.

ISABELA SUNSET

On Sept. 7, I went to Kalinga and Cagayan with other human rights workers. What was supposed to be a purely goodwill mission turned out to be a pleasure trip as well. The sights between Kalinga and Cagayan were definitely breathtaking. I intend to post the pictures in the near future.

By the time we headed back to Baguio, it was late afternoon. We were lucky to have witnessed a sunset. I hurriedly took pictures even while our car was speeding. I think the pics were taken in Isabela.

I am sharing the sunset pictures we took.

KAGRACHARI SUNSET

by: Cheryl Daytec

My friend Gina Dizon has been in Kagrachari, Bangladesh for three years doing humanitarian work for the indigenous peoples there. Most of them belong to the Chakma tribe.

The situation of our indigenous brothers and sisters in Bangladesh is so heartbreaking. One Bangladeshi activist told me that every waking moment is for them a miracle because it means they are still alive.

Their problems include displacement from their ancestral lands. To IPs, the land is their life. Once it is taken away, everything else- culture, economic livelihood, even their very existence- goes. The government of Bangladesh has resorted to militarization as a weapon of development aggression. Every day, the IPs stare at the face of terror.

And yet amid all their pressing problems, there is still beauty around. Gina took some really beautiful pictures of the Kagrachari sunset.

Gina swears none of the pictures is digitally enhanced! How stupendous is the beauty Gina was fortunate to witness. All we can can experience is vicarious, and yet we can still appreciate the beauty as though we were there watching as the sun set in the western sky.

The oppressors may use force to take the IP's ancestral domains. But how can they ever take away the beauty of the sunset?

CLAVERIA SUNSET

My student Adrienne Tajon gave me a picture of the Claveria Sunset in Cagayan. Just look at it.

GENEVA LAKE SUNSET
by Cheryl Daytec

Beauty takes our breath away without our knowing it.

Lac Leman is a very famous lake in Europe. Also known as Lake Geneva, it is Central Europe's second largest freshwater lake in terms of surface area. More than fifty percent of it is in Switzerland while the rest is in France. Much of it can be seen in the city of Geneva. So Geneva is a seat of splendor aside from being the location of many agencies of the United Nations for the protection of human rights.

On a cloudy autumn day when the sun was setting, I took the pictures here with my Nokia E70 cellphone. Together with a human rights lawyer from Bulgaria, I was taken to an elevated place in Geneva by Swiss human rights lawyer Raymond de Morawitz for a good view of the lake. We stood there long enough to be captivated and to learn that Mary Shelley was inspired to write the famous novel Frankenstein while standing on the shores of the spectacular lake.

Before I retired to bed that evening, I wrote a poem:

An Ode to Lake Geneve
There reign justice and compassion
In the core of your long mission
Evident from sharp reflections
Of the sun’s rays of emotion
Here is the refuge of right
Here prevails fairness with might
Houses of power stand on your soil
Anger and hatred they must foil
They fence out for the entire world
Kings and queens of oppressive mold
To treat people’s lives without care
To spatter blood, no crown should dare
The soft breeze and clear water
Hold the soul captive; it can’t wander
The boat that left is here again
A peaceful journey will begin
I wonder how Frankeinstein’s monster
Came from your beauty oh, so sober
Oh, Lac Le’man, you’re home to peace
Your glory dangles some promise
Did Rousseau stand before your grace
While writing what earned the world’s praise?
Near you death is unwelcome thought
To a troubled mind you give repose
Where you end, where you begin
A mystery reason can’t defend
The wind whispers your sweet refrain
One day, I will see you again.

I did not know that the lake extends up to the city of Montreaux and maybe beyond. I took a few pictures in Montreaux but I could not locate the disc where I stored them. I promise to do my best to find it. There is nothing beautiful in not sharing beauty.

ANOTHER MAGICAL SUNSET: BESAO SUNSET

The endless sky burns majestically in various parts of the world. And always with the same sun. Fires get us scared. But not when the fire is dancing in the sky, flirting with clouds.

Besao sun disappearing behind Tirad Pass, Ilocos Sur

Atty. Lynn "Lino" Macalingay, a US-based native of Besao, Mt. Province, visited this blog and he expressed his joy that we are interested in nature photography. He is himself a nature-lover and has a collection of pictures of nature in various forms which he himself took.


The Besao sun slowly fading in Ogawi.
Last year, he came home to bury his father. He had occasion to take pictures of the famed Besao Sunset. The pictures you see here are all his, taken from his ancestral home.

The Besao Sunset is a tourist attraction. From Besao, you can see the sun descending slowly until it disappears behind Tirad Pass. Then darkness creeps in, but you just stare at the sunset as if it is still there. The magical feeling of watching it simply go down stays with you and makes you forget that nighttime has stolen its beauty. But really, the beauty cannot be stolen. The memory stays with you for as long as you like. And it is free.

FIRE DESCENDING FROM THE SKY: SABANGAN SUNSET

My former student, friend and fellow nature-lover Arthur Odsey saw my Kayapa Sunrise pictures. He loved them. Then he showed me his pictures of Sabangan Sunset. Goodness gracious! I was so tongue-tied. Later, I asked him to give me copies.

Let the beauty of the sunset speak for itself. Let it speak to you.

What a sight. This can happen only once. The next sunset will take a different form.






It is as if the sky is burning.

FIRE REACHING UP TO THE SKY

Last summer, I traveled to Banaue, Ifugao to attend the seventh Igorot International Consultation sponsored by the Igorot Global Organization.

In Kayapa, Nueva Vizcaya, the bus suffered a mechanical breakdown. It was early in the morning. Dawn was breaking and I could see beautiful fire reaching up to the sky.

I am glad I was able to capture that moment. It was a very compelling sight. As soon as I got to Banaue, I wrote a poem.

Kayapa Sunrise

You are The Great Kabunian’s handiwork
None but He can blend and match colors
And paint such consummate splendor
Using the infinite sky above for canvas
Beyond caustic hands spilling malice
As you crawl like fire reaching the sky
My eager pen tries to describe you

But struggles for the perfect words
You dance with abandon in the horizon
Tantalizing my vision with hues of red
And yellow and orange, all vibrant
Like a lovers’ campfire by the lakeside
Hoping to spill comfort from its warmth
The grass glistening from dewdrops
Awaits the soft, warm kiss from your lips
A thin, shy cloud cinctures your waist
And tops your crown, drinking your light
Losing its nature, becoming light itself
Becoming part of you, forgetting it is cloud
Fully knowing the morning is your show
Slowly, you change your shape in the sky
As white clouds pull you from the depths
Of your hiding place behind Sierra Madre
Your beauty takes a different shape
My camera captures your enigmatic smile
Which becomes mine, till it consumes me
I pray to hold you still, still in one place
To kneel before your unmatched grace
When hideousness creeps into my world
(by Cheryl Daytec, April 2008)