Like the biblical David,
This puny Filipino lad
Sat on the prow,
As the boat rode the mighty waves.
“They are my friends”, he said.
“They ask me of life on the shore.”
They ask me about the green trees,
Of the colourful birds and the bees.
They wonder,
if the distant cliffs and the hills
Will ever bow down at their feet.
They enquire about how seasons change.
About the snow in the hills
And of the heat in the plains.
The waves pester me for answers
And in their curiosity
They come closer,
With each thump, splash or a jump.
The waves are curious.
They come faster,
Arm in arm
jumping high as they near
To touch the lad
Feel his face, his lips,
Lunge and lodge
in between the strands of his hair,
Settle on the pores of his skin
In an attempt to understand,
What gives him the guts
To break their gravity,
Their brooding, sombre seriousness
With his carefree, impish smile
Day after day?