“Piyesta ron sa among parokya, day! Naay daghang kaon! Pwede mo maimbitar?” said a man in his early 50s drinking on the shore with younger men. I knew they were curious about my companion, a beautiful Japanese maiden. “Libre, K’ya?” I smirked. It is hard to say no to food. “O, oy! Dali! Adto ta ninyo!” I told Midori about it. She was game for it. The then-chapel by the road leading to Kawasan is now a church. And most of its surroundings are cemented.
Kawasan Falls, Matutinao, Badian, Cebu, Philippines It was a sleepless night. I was reading this poem in the wee hours of the morning at McDonald’s Mango while waiting for Mara, the PR consultant of Terra Manna Camping and Resort. I didn’t know that we would visit the river that kept on flowing in my memory. Rivers are ardent travelers and drifters. Rivers are lives not lived.
MUSING “It looks emerald and serene.” “It seems it’s enticing you to take a dip.” “But I doubt it will remain emerald, serene once it is disturbed.” “You think so?” “Why?” “The beauty lies on its stillness, serenity, and emeraldness. Once they are disturbed, its beauty collapses.” “You mean, its beauty is best appreciated in a distance? But how can you validate such beauty without dissecting its beautyness. I mean, we clamor for details.” “And sometimes such craving for details leads us to disappointment.” “You’re unwilling to bend, even just a little, your definition of beauty. Details, indeed, can break […]