Thursday, April 8, 2010


He left us five years ago and yet, his presence is still felt around the house. The lazy chair where he used to sit is still there and oftentimes, my mind can still see him sitting there in quiet solitude after breakfast. His clothes are still neatly folded in the drawers and his bougainvillea plants around the house are still flowering. There are so many things that I can tell about him but my words fail me. What will I write? Where do I start? I know no stories told will ever justify the memories that I have of him. For Abah, this poem is dedicated to you and what you have taught me.

The things you taught me I will always know.
How could I not? The roots have sunk so deep:
All lessons of the heart that I will keep
No matter who I am or where I go.
Kids learn from what their parents are, and so
You are my book of life, the thoughts I reap;
Only in your arms I quiet sleep;
Under my words your voice sings soft and slow.
From you I learned the rules of right and wrong
Against which I at times had to rebel,
Though with regret I carry with me still.
How lucky I am to have been loved so well,
Even as I pushed against your will,
Relying on a father fair and strong.