The Fire Tree

Jason K. Dy, SJ

You root yourself
beside an old, stone-cold building
ready to lick and burn it
with your fiery flowers
then paint its walls black

and I,
standing from a distance,
afraid to get burned.

Yet from afar
you stand still
like in those summers past
of green leaves unleaving,
of flowers blooming then enflaming
with yellows and vermilions
without bothering
the mockery of usually green trees
of your uncommon guise.

Silently you root yourself
in the earth’s womb
that bears you since
you were a tiny seed
sowed by invisible hands

and embrace yourself—
a burning tree
that neither blazes nor flickers
as the wind passes
nor consumes others near,
nearest you

but you only breathe life
into the old, stone-cold building
and shower life’s hue
into the green grass on your foothold
by the sheer falling of your redness,

and invite me—
still from a distance—
to come nearer.

June 20, 2002
Berchmans Building

Victoria's Verse No. 3

by Sch. Weng Bava, SJ

i never ask you a rose garden
but a place to just rest awhile
while storm rages from within and without
to soothe my aching limbs and worn-out flesh
a place to hide away from pelting pain
free at last to wipe my face of mingled dust
and tears

i never ask for a palace in the sky
a hut will do to shield me from the stifling heat
of my own unbearable, consuming passion
to breathe the fresh breeze of unspoilt love
in the dawn of a new day when love was love and you
were mine

but you lay me down a bed of thorns
and tug me in a blanket of snow
i shiver from the biting cold and howl like the wind
numb in the coldness of my own
silly dreams

Weng is a second year philosopher currently taking up his MA in Comparative Literature in the University of the Philippines, Diliman. He is the resident cineaste in Loyola House of Studies and favors a wide range of movies from Ang Mga Mata ni Angelina to that of Francois Ozon's Water Drops on Burning Rocks. A prolific writer, Weng's works are likened to that of Anton Chekov and Ernest Hemingway. He's known as the blogger afficionado maintaning more than nine blogs in blogspot.

bells

by Sch. Edward Joseph Magtoto, SJ

silence.

The chirps of birds mean nothing.
The chatter of crickets unimportant.
The clicking keyboards,
the harsh banter of plates and cutlery,
the canned melodies from a silver box—
all sound the same, all mean the same,
for they mean not more than the silence within.

When shall I hear you sing, O bells of yore?
I long for that faithful melody—the hymn of high noon,
the cadenced chant of twilight.
I long to close my eyes and hear
that clanging tenor which soothes my soul.
I long to breathe in that song of praise: a serenade
to the Woman who sings for joy.
I long for that rhythmic poetry of ringing—
when the silence within resounds the more,
when the choreographed revelry of your delightful chimes
announce the banquet to friends once more.

Jody is on his second year of Philosophy at the Ateneo de Manila University. He is also finishing a thesis for his MS in Computer Science. Jody loves to watch art films and read novels. Jody is into photography and verse and prose composition. Along with other Jesuit enthusiasts, he maintains a blog about food and spirituality entitled The Jesuit Gourmet.

finding oneself

by Rev. Lester Maramara, SJ

Sisyphus pushes the rock up the mountain;
I push it down.
Not that I wish to.
But the burden of the cargo that
uncomfortably balances itself on my shoulder
covers my eyes with cold sweat
creating crevices of burn and blood.
Yet, if I am to be left free
I will go beyond where Sisyphus had not reached:
fly to the top of the heavens
rocket-fast, charging the winds
with all desire and will
carrying with me the burden
I wish not to bear but decided.
My heart burns wild in frenzy
as I focus my gaze on the Star
accompanying me anywhere I go
seducing me to climb the mountain of my sweet doom
giving me stronger wings to further fly.
For my heart finds its rest
in the constant climbing and flying.

The Carpenter’s Soliloquy

by Sch. Noel Y. Bava, SJ

What marvel! What terror is this?
The hands that knew nay gentleness
From many a lumber caressed
Be made to touch a Baby blessed?

Ere my arms did tug close timbers
Cuddles now a child that shivers—
In howling gale o’ harried winter—
My heart, in joy an’ grief, asunder

What blessing, and oh, what curse!
In feeble mind and soul I purse?
To be father, not begetter
Of a child mine, and yet never?

But when I look into his eyes
That yet to see, my anguish dies
And that cherubic yawn he makes
Away! All my horrors he takes

Ah! What death and also what birth?
What sorrow to surcease the mirth
Of proclaiming to be silent
And being silent to lament

O God, O Lord and co-Father!
Look down, forgive me woodworker
Prithee, poor carpenter, I am
Serve Thee, the Infant in my arm…

Dec. 11, 2004

krismastri

ni jason k. dy, sj

pinili't tinipon
mga sangang
bali-bali't
hiwa-hiwalay
mula sa punong
bumagsak
at nawasak
noong bagyong
sa ami'y
sumira't
naminsala.

mga sangang ito'y
pinilit na lamang
ginawang krismastri.

sa malaking
latang yupi,
mga sanga'y
sinisiksik,
pinagpapatungan
ng mga batong
malalaki't maliliit,
at sa berdeng
papel de hapon,
ang lata't
mga bato'y nagkukubli.

kumpol ng
nakatayong sanga,
palamuti'y
ibang-iba:
may kending
nakatali sa sanga,
pero karamihan nito'y
batong hugis-kendi --
nagmimistulang kendi,
mayroon ding
sitserya,
'sang piso lang
ang halaga
ng bawat isa,
nakasabit din
ang mga punit na't
lumang krismas kard,
at may belen pang
ginupit lang
sa diyaryong
pambalot ng
daing
noon pa.

pagsapit ng
pasko
pagmamasdan ko ito
habang
umiinom ng
kapeng mainit
at ngumunguya ng
pandesal
na malamig,
at sana
masulyapan ito
ng mga bituin
sa kalangitan
kahit sandali
man lang.

sa mga taga-erya G4,
sapang palay.
pasko 1998

nailathala ng heights
tomo xlix, bilang. 1, taon 2001

Kapag Sabsaban ay Iba

(panalangin ng kababagong-alay na lingkod)
ni Fr. Victor R. Baltazar, S.J. aka. Reggie Adviento, S.J.

“lovely lady dressed in blue,
teach me, teach me how to pray;
God was just your little boy,
teach me, teach me what to say...”

Aleng Bughaw, aleng bughaw:
Kapag sabsaban ay iba,
makukuha mo pa kaya’ng
lumimlim sa iyong puso’t
nang mainin ang pagkataong
nililikha na ng Salita?

Harinawa....

Pagkat ‘di dayaming mainit
at haplos na kay lambot
ang saplot naming sa ambot
na ‘tong lipunan sumilang
na sanggol. ‘Di mga pobreng
banayad na pastol ang naunang
dumalaw kundi matapobreng
magbabayad ng sa kahalayang
lagi nang sugarol.

Sa sabsaban naming iba
ay ‘di kamanyang o mira
o ginto ang dala ng iba
rin namang magong nagpunta.
Pera at poder na kahalihalina
ang dala ng anghel dela guardiang
bantay-salakay naman kaha
sa kasisilang na katiwala.
Diyata’t buntong tukso’ng buntala,
sa pusikit na langit ang humila.

Aleng bughaw, aleng bughaw.
Itong gusgusi’y pulutin sana
sa ngumangasab na sabsaban,
ikubli sa halukipkip mong payapa,
at pagkadaka’y uguyin mo’t iduyan
nang ‘di masindak sa kahalayan
yaring bagong silang na kabanalan.

Sacred Heart Novitiate
20 December 1999

Paring Vic is a Jesuit priest temporarily residing in Rome, Italy to pursue doctoral studies in Spiritual Theology at the Pontifical Gregorian University. Writing verse and cooking adobo are two things which keep hismind clear, his heart on fire and his feet on the ground. He also gives retreats and recollections to Jesuits, diocesan priests, religious nuns, seminarians and lay people.

Tanong sa Tahimik na Tatay

(O Kung Magdarasal kay San Jose ang Magpapari)
ni Fr. Victor R. Baltazar, S.J. aka. Papang Payapa

Bakit kay tahimik
mong lalaki at kay maginoong
tinanggap ang gayong
alanganing sitwasyong
nasuungan ng katipan?

Bakit kay tahimik mong
asawa at tiyak maasikasong
umalaga sa buntis mong
kabiyak; buong-sabik sa 'yong
panganay ng kabanalan?

Bakit kay tahimik mong
tatay at pagsaksi mong
pipi at tiyak-tatag ng 'yong
puso ang namana n'yong .
Loob na babata sa kahirapan?

Ginoong kay tahimik
ituro mo sa akin,
lakas ng payapang pananalig
na may katarungang kakabit.

Kabiyak na kay tahimik
ituro mo sa akin,
bisa ng pipi mong pag-ibig
ng 'di masalitang pagmamalasakit.

Tatay na kay tahimik,
ipakita mo sa akin,
loob na nililima't pinakisig
ng Salitang umaakit sa pagpapakasakit

Ako man, Tata Jose,
sa 'ming mundong maingay at mahalay,
gusto ko ring maging tatay
ng mapagpala mong Panganay.


Sacred Heart Novitiate
20 December 1999