variations of the word uprooting

as a toddler these chubby
set of tiny toes were
buried in brown cake
of forest’s earth, as the
plump fingers reach out
for blood-red wild berries,

as a student these
leather-covered soles
wandered through cemented
schools, universities, as
the mind gulps data after
data, oh so, committedly,

as a two-decade lady
these desperate feet
tried (begged) to belong
in carpeted corporate
floor, as the pocket gaped
with empty plates
waiting at home.

at present, these trotters
gait with certainty from
one plane to another,
on concrete cities to
Himalayan snowed floors,
with the same soft chin
looking up to thank
Him who is above,

prayers work. prayers work.

©2020 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash
Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
For dVerse Poetics: Impermanence
…I’d like you to think about impermanence, things that are transient, or things that have passed their time. If you want to stick to the seasons, nature, or the weather, that’s fine, but I’d like to challenge you to try to come up with something different or unusual. Your poem can be in any style or form.

patawad, Pilipinas (forgive me, Philippines)

Patawad, Pilipinas
Hindi ako makakaboto bukas.
Ang mga paa ko’y nakaapak
sa isang malayong landas.
Kumakayod para sa pamilyang
hugutan ng lakas.

Subalit, Pilipinas,
dinig ko ang iyong hikbi.
Umiiyak din ang aking puso,
na para bang ako’y sawi
sa nakikitang mga pangalang
sa malamang ay magwawagi.

Oo, Pilipinas,
mahina ako sa Filipino.
Sa simpleng ng at nang
ako nga ay litong-lito,
subalit hinding hindi
sa mga taong dapat iboto.

Oo, Pilipinas,
nagtatanong din ako
kung bakit nga ba mas marami
ang boboto sa mga manloloko.
Marahil mas mainam ang kilala
kesa sa mga bago.

Oo, Pilipinas,
nakakatakot nga ang bukas.
Marahil may himala,
baka matalo ang likong pantas.
Baka ang nag-iisip,
sa wakas ay magsilabas.

Patawad pa rin, Pilipinas
hindi ako makakaboto bukas.
Baunin mo ang aking dasal
mula sa malayong landas.
Kainin ka man ng dilim bukas,
Pilipinas, hindi ito ang wakas.


Forgive me, Philippines,
I cannot vote tomorrow.
My feet are stepped on
a far land where calm winds blow,
working for my family
the home where my strength grow.

But, Philippines,
I can hear you wimping.
My heart cries with you
like I am also breaking
to see those names
whom most may be voting.

Yes, Philippines,
my Filipino skills isn’t good.
In simple use of “ng” and “nang”,
I’m like lost in the woods,
but not on who to vote
for your greater good.

Yes, Philippines,
I am also wondering
why a lot will vote
for experts in plundering.
Perhaps old names are better
than a new beginning.

Yes, Philippines,
tomorrow is quite scary.
Perhaps, there’s miracle,
the fools will lose, maybe.
Perhaps those who think
will be heard finally.

Still, I am sorry, Philippines
I cannot vote tomorrow.
Please bring with you my prayers
from a far land where calm winds blow.
Even if the darkness wins tomorrow,
Philippines, this isn’t your end, no.

©2019 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo by Jeremy Perret on Unsplash

Please help me pray for my country.