What Mother Tells Me Poem by RIC BASTASA

she is always the first to wake up in the house
as she prays the rosary
and father follows to check the carabao on the side
of the hill and transfer it to a greener pasture

while we their children are still asleep
always wanting more sleep on those cold days
curled in our bed covered with thick blankets
and soft pillows on our heads and our ears all covered up
against the sound of the kitchen
our eyes hiding from the light of the morning sun

and mother pulls my blanket
and takes my arm and hugs me and tells me

wake up! wake up! the night is over
go to the river and take your bath

there is no one on your side now
the rest have gone to their respective tasks

wake up! wake up! my son
go and clean yourself and face the day because
the night is over

and these words still cling to my ears:
the night is over
and another one will be coming