Grief Poem by Aida Santos

Rest, my dear friend
For this grief shall too pass
As you always say. And now I say
This to myself, viewing you now in peace.

1
I have not spoken to you
Before you drew your last breath
And hung your head.
I sat on the sofa, engulfed by grief
Looking at the white roses
Sitting quietly, like you,
Man of few words and
Thousand good deeds.

2
You visited me in those hours
When my soul was dead
And my body thin as reed,
With bowls of fish head sinigang,
And a spring that flows of gentle words.
It will be over, you said,
Your arms around my shoulder
Like a long lost brother.

3
Co-traveler in this world where dreams
Sleep through the shadowed fears
Of unrest, rebellions and hopes
Shaded by poems, songs and dances,
Food that nourished your spirit
And hope for your people.

4
You were a wild child of this universe
With dreams of poetry, songs and dances
Running through your brain
Ecstasy of creation and creative thinking:
You dreamt of mountains,
Hill tribes and their stories.
The camera is your eye that sees the world
As it speaks, is now silent.

Rest, my dear friend
For this grief shall too pass
As you always say. And now I say
This to myself, viewing you now in peace.

(April 6,2006)