Tuesday, May 23, 2006

Nine Days in Dumaguete

I arrived yesterday, yet I am still not here. Outside, the night is still a Dumaguete night in front of the Silliman Alumni Dorm. The air is chilled with possible rain. Salt clings on the ropes of wind. My garden seems filled with the tiny shadows of centuries old acacias. I can't hear the city just yet and I am grateful for that.

I've been coming home to Dumaguete nearly twelve years now. I feel the flux between past and future. It is never present. I am always between memory and hope.

All the layers and textures of blue. More than the human mind can absorb. The endless light changing the sea like a piece of experimental music. The midnight blue stare of a crab. The night coming between your thighs. Oh my forever love, Dumaguete. My husband, my wife, my mentor.

All the layers of nature still my heart. Other sounds quiet me. Cicadas, ocean waves, wind through massive trees everywhere. The clearest water on this earth is in Siquijor. The most magical castaway island is Apo.

I am still dizzy with love.

I've come here golden and hot. I've unpacked shoes with grains of white sand trickling timeless. Malongs smelling like fresh fish. I have a strength in my eyes. A tidal heaviness in the hips and fingers. And half a heart.

P.S. End to the Full Moon arranged and sung by Aia de Leon of Imago, from the book cd Reaching Destination is on MTV!