A Garden Poem

Fusing art and literacy, the children in my class did a wonderful poem to celebrate our project on "A Dialogue With Nature".  Simple yet meaningful, the art piece brings joy and a feeling of contentment.

Hello, Goodbye!

An e-mail, a call
from long time absence.

Surprise, recall
a logical sequence.

A meet, to seek
each company's pleasure.

A date, complete
to treat like a treasure.

A day, a week
smiles and exchanges.

To make, to seek
our living collages.

The time, the end
abrupt and so sudden

A foe, a friend
used then forgotten.

In Your Absence

Make your presence felt
in the midst of many unknown faces.

Raise your soul through
in the quiet solitude of unspoken bliss.

Shine your beacon bright
to lead me to your guided path.

Manifest your love pure
delight that fills the empty vessel.

Share your wisdom deep
to make me see life's paradoxes.

Deliver your good intents
so as to bridge gaps widening.

Dawn your soul within
the deep embers of my existence.

Your presence miss,
your absence felt,
your coming most awaited.

Mother, One and Only

"I have a surprise for you mom. A necklace!"
"How small!"
"Would you like me to put it around you."
"It doesn't matter."
"Ok, here you are. Bye!"

I left my mom's place bitter and crying. I just couldn't stand the snobbish acceptance every time I have something to give her. My heart was being slashed for each and every word I heard.

"Ma, some money to keep. By the way, where's the necklace I gave you?"
"You gave me one? I don't recall."
"Mom, I gave you one and you didn't even say thank you."
"I don't remember."

Again, I turned my back and cried. This time, the tears were really running down my cheeks not because she wasn't interested with the necklace but because she is losing her memory. She is becoming sickly caused by her many years of battle with diabetes, a tumor growing inside her breast, and cataract. I retreated to my silent mode , still with tears in my eyes as I leave the house. It was unbearable.

I remember my mom teaching me how to draw pictures when I was young. I remember drawing a cockroach and had never forgotten the steps she showed me. I remember my mom waking up early in the morning so as to prepare breakfast, help us with our school uniforms and send us to the school bus. I remember her running to the streets when she heard that I was hit by a bus. I remember her sobbing when my dad was mad at her for being beautiful.

I remember lots of things but she doesn't anymore. The memories we built throughout these lifetime will cease to exist. Good that there were photographs and stories that had kept the memories intact so that when we have the time to sit down again, I'll show the photos and tell her the stories and reminisce all the good times.

I do regret not being with her all the time, in sickness, in pain, and even in good health. My chosen path was brought about by my inner desire to escape and build my own life. Yet in my separation with her, she is always thought of and loved for all eternity. She brought me up to become a fine individual who love, care, and respect not only the people around me but also God.

I dedicate the day to her marvellous life as a mother to me, HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!

Turning Grey

The discussion that permeates the air was not really disturbing but it was an awareness that people age. It was actually pleasant to talk about growing old. The apprehensions of having grey hair, sagging body parts, memory relapse and the lost of friends are topics of the natural order. They are part of what is to happen to everyone.

The mystery that surrounds the dying tree had been a welcome discussion among the children in my class. Most suggested plenty of sun and rain for the tree to grow back its leaves. Some even suggested making paper leaves to hang or glue among the tree's branches. Everyone was concerned about its condition but they all understood that if the tree is sickly or old, then there was a tendency for the tree to die. The tree had given us shade from the scorching heat of the afternoon sun during outside play. The tree had given us flowers during its blooming season. The tree had given us joy as we recreated its shadows through art and during our study about gardens.

Our growth as a person is a celebration of our existence in this world. Our learning throughout are the glory we seek and earn. Our fellowship with people is the glue towards individuality and uniqueness. Our journeys are measures of our being human and humane. Our contributions become crowns of respect, commitment and responsibility.

The greatest part of growing old is the attitude towards it. We grow old and we should strive to grow old gracefully. We look at the world not as a burden but as a journey towards what is best not only for ourselves but also for others.

The tree in the school's garden served its purpose. Our lives should serve a purpose as well. It is in living that we learn to accept death. It is dying that we begin eternal life.

To See What Is Free

Breathe amongst the luscious greens
and close your eyes imagining
let the mind wanders through
of dreams and scenes sleeping.


Savour the colours of heavenly skies
the clues of soft emanating
let the majestic horizon high
blankets the view stunning.


Embrace the brown of wooden timbers
tall and mighty standing
the surface scratched to reveal
its innermost hidden feelings.


Admire forth the flowers bloom
their velvety petals caressing
the wind that touches infinitely
their beauty worth honouring.


Listen well for those tiny whispers
of insects all parading
their minuscule feet that marches on
the ground on foot printing.

Collect the sights in a bowl
of treasured visions keeping
the earth, the sky and all its allies
in harmony of living.