Siya'y Aking Panaginip

Binabaybay ko ang taas ng aking aakyatin. Ang matatarik at matatalim na mga batong nakausbong, mga natatanging aalalay sa aking paglakbay. Masilayan man kung ano ang nagtatago at tinatago, binibining gawa sa ginto o gintong binibini na aking aangkinin. Kahit na mistula sa paningin man lamang.

Ang harden ng mga punong kahoy, daan taon o libo pa mang sumibol na siyang inilagaan ng mga naunang nanirahan at ngayon ay nagbabayad sa pagalaga ng mga mata na mapapatingin mula sa malayong luklukan o malayang parang. Kung sino man ang makakita nais ko’y inyo rin kapanabikan ang inyong paglalakbay sa pag-uwi o kung ‘di man ay may matutuluyang kayong malambot na higaan sa inyong pagtulog.

Ang lawa taliwas sa gilid at kabila ng bayan na siya may likha sa araw at sa gabi’y lilikhain ang buwan sa pagwangis nito sa kanyang malasalamin na linis. Kung sa malayo ay tanging bughaw na kalangitan lamang ang makikita at sa malapit naman ay mistulang wala maliban lang sa lumilipad na mga isda mapapansin.

Ang bayang munti na umusbong mula sa maliit na butil ng pagasa na siyang inilagaan ng mga ninuno’t purok at hari’t reynang unang nangako’t nangarap ay ngayon nang may mapayapang pamumuhay at natatanging kagandahang makikita lamang wala sa siyudad ng emperyo. Kung dito man lamang ako lumaki, marahil wala akong narating pero di maaalis ang gayak at ngiting mangingibabaw sa aking puso.

Sa gitna ng lahat ng ito sa may bandang itaas, hindi naman masyadong malapit sa kalangitan ngunit tinitingala ang kastilyo sa langit nakawasto sa ibabaw ng bangin. Kung sinumang prinsesa ang itinatago sa aking paningin sana ay aking masilayan. Malaman man lamang ang tinig ng iyong boses, ang pagkislap ng iyong mata at ang kabighabighaning mong kagandahan. Payak ba ang iyong kilos o sadyang mala brilyante sa ingat sa sarili’t kapwa? Ano kaya ang iyong ugali? Lahat ba ng iyong bisita’y napapaibig? Silang lahat ba’y nasa iyong palad? May pagasa ba ako?

Ngunit lahat ng ito’y walang saysay kung ikaw ay aking hindi makikita. 

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Tumakbo ang nagbalatkayong prinsipe ng malayong lugar. Ninais nyang masaksihan ang tibay ng kawal sa laban. Napatumba na nya ang ibang alagad, walang napaslang, ngunit bakas ang pagkatalong lubusan.

“Mahina,” ang bulong nya habang siya ay tumakbo paitaas ng bubungan ng kastilyo. “Wala na bang mas lalakas pa sa inyong mga tagapagbantay?”

Ang mga guwardiya ay nagpatuloy sa pahabol. Napasigaw ang iba. Ang kapitang guwardiya hingal na sa kauutos. Ang hari ay di na mapakali. Sino nga ba ang magnanakaw na basta na lamang nakapasok sa kanyang kastilyo?

Sa pagtakbo ng prinsipe naakit siya sa ganda ng kapaligirang nakapaligid sa kastilyong nakatirik sa mataas na banging nakasilid sa ibabaw ng nakabibighaning lawa.

“Ito ba ang tinutukoy nilang lawang sumilang sa araw at buwan?” Napaisip ang prinsipe. “Sa sobrang mala salamin ay mistulang maakala mong mismong langit ang nakikita mo sa may malayo. Kaya ba nila tiniwag ang lugar na itong kastiloy sa langit dahil ba don? Hindi mo rin maikakaila ang ganda ng kakahuyang nakapalibot. Marahil daan taon o siglo ang pangangalaga ng kalikasan dito na hindi madaling mapansin ang bakas ng sibilisasyong namuhay dito. Tamang mapagmahal na sinasakupan at namumuna ang siyang may kakahayang mapanatiling ganitong kaayusan. Hanggang dito nga’y hindi ko maitatangging nasisimoy ko ang dahon sa mga puno.”

Sa may di kalayuan napansin na ng prinsipe ang ginawang pagsugpo sa kanya. Alam niya nang di niya na ito matatakasan kung wala siyang gagawin. Napalundag sa balustrades ang prinsipe at tinalon talon paakyat ang mga bubong sa kastilyo. Kabilaang lumipad sa kanya ang mga pana ng mga kawal ngunit walang tumama. Ang prinsipe ay dalubhasa sa pagilag.

“Tigil!” sigaw ng mga kapitang guwardiya. Mistulang napahinto ang paglipad ng mga pana at tumahimik ang kaguluhan ng mga guwardiya..

“Suko na ba sila?” sabi ng prinsipe at bahagyang binagalan na niya ang kanyang pag takbo. “Mahihina talaga. Dapat itong malaman ng hari. Ang simple paglundag at akrobatiko ay dapat matutunan ng mga kawal at sundalo. Paano kung sila ay lusubin sa ganitong paraan?”

Sa may ay napansin niyang nakaabang ang mga kawal sa balkonahe. Isa pala itong patibong.

“Magaling,” bulong ng prinsipe. Ibaba na sana ng prinsipe ang kanyang balabal at maskarang balatkayo ay napahinto ito nang makita sa may kabilang balkonahe ang prinsesa ng kahiraan. Siya rin ay napansin nito.

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Tumunog ang alarma ng orasan ni Mark John. Unang araw ng kanyang klase sa mataas na paaralan at nais niyang pumasok ng maaga. Bumangon si Mark John, nagayos ng higaan at dumiretso sa CR. Bakas sa salamin ang kaba sa kanyang mga mata. Panibagong paaralan, panibagong umaga ng kanyang buhay at ang panaginip sa prinsipe ay naglaho na lamang na parang bula.

Memories of Eve

The clouds at the distance, perished thoughts of storms as the blue eternity playfully peeking collided with the warmth of the light. How wonderful it was to be alive, as if my very existence for that moment, was the sole reason to be. In the horizon met the two everblues, the sky and sea. With all eternity shaping, how can one blessed such as I doubt everlasting love to even end. Beneath it, the crest of verdure green lushed with verdant life, some were still afraid of what came as a surprise of their being while others chirped and grazed lovingly in praise of just being.

The silvery grass fresh plucked from its slumber slowly awakened to their young life. The blades of the very land turn and dance along the rhythm of warm wind breeze. Four legged creatures, while others can crouch and can stand, ran playfully in awe all the while basking in the mercy of being without care and ultimately alive. But one cannot truly deny the little ones that were busy with their short life they already knew and have. But needless one may have said, they too were happy much so as I was.

I walked friskly taking in the smell of green. Oh! How magnificent it was to breathe in the fresh woven feel. The birth of a new land, the beginning of everything. It was all too wonderful that one such I, who may have already been grateful to have lived for this moment, questions if I was truly worthy of such sensation.

In a far off view, shadow stretched as vibrant green color emanated from the just laid garden of trees. Even the bark in its shade glowed distinctly with each other a certain love of having be. The mother birds flew branch to branch checking spots better for nesting. There are creatures too, unnamed yet, indistinct with each other but all the same ever delighted swang and jumped, as they looked for nourishment and played all the same. Without care of how they came to be. Or were it all a choreography of praise and gratitude?

The darkened leaves that did not fall, waltzed and swayed to stronger wind, yet most remained hanging. Oh! What a magnificent orchestra when they rustled in unison a symphony in accord to the genesis of it all.

The more courageous ones, the one meant for the sky sought and went beyond the branches and leaves. The greater and lighter creatures stucked their heads above the forest. Those that could not fly, looked beyond the edges of the forest. Some paused enamored by the greater clouds, the white trees and branches unreachable to them. Those that could fly, the one more loved and most adored by the wind get carried away, with a here and there toll of falling feathers. They flew in flocks, but not too far, just far enough to see, in their tiny eyes, what was there and what will be.

The greater trees were ultimately forming, and in the blink of a moment as if never existed. But they were there. The clouds that elegantly showed the everlasting beauty of the sky in portions. It was a machination that the sky was just as delicately made, can at times be shy and be even more.

All cpuld easily be mistaken as a canvass portrayal still of a master designer saved for the hues that changed. What was once light grew bright and by past midday, with all almost dark turned orange then gold then magnificently fused with the night sky. The sun was about to set and bid goodnight and then appeared fully awake. Though unnew, if ever phased, was the moon, all too perfect to simply be beautiful. Silver clouds, once white, covered a portion of the eternity, a delicate touch by whose hands burned passionately for all to be.

Just as they are, brilliant gems sparkled, one after another, it may not have been simultaneously just as fast but much like dreamers who woke up from a calm slumber. It may not have yet been visibly known but they are at hands with each other intertwined, parting many distinct view of portraits to the unlearned just as beautiful. The clouds can be a nuisance sometimes, especially at those moment, but with deeper consideration and greater understanding, does it not add more to the sky?

I lifted my hands vaguely reaching out to something I could not. Perhaps it was meant to praise the hands that made everything and all. Just as I saw past my hands, more elegance and sophistry were added, as all the night sky was buried beneath the clouds and not moonlight nor any stars can be seen sneaking a peek. Then it fell, tears I’ve somehow bottled, was it to my delight? But tears did not have to flow, but I let it. For I was and so everything else.

“Was it the snow that fell first?”

I heard a crackling noise from the distance behind me. At first I did not mind it because my eyes were fixated at the silvery sky turning red. Dark clouds appeared as purple lightning flashed from the distant far off sky. I knew it was closing, even the winds could whisper as loudly in multitude and strength. The first storm in paradise, can it withstand? The thought of which I was guilty of. At that moment, I was afraid.

The creatures of the garden were restless, their voice unprofound but griefstricken in terror. Even those blessed by the wind grew fearful of flight. The crests of the night time forest was undeniably glowing red. Far from the lively green it once glowed. The rustles of the leaves as well the wind accompanying sung in despair. There were scratches and slashes from the flesh of the trees. Silhouettes can be seen of the creatures that jumped and swang, they were not playing. The mother birds tightened their hold among their hatchlings. They could see nothing for there was no light and they were afraid.

“Burn everything to the ground!”

I stared at the ground only then did I notice at the side of my sight. Both my hands carried a burning torch and a sword. The grass slept beneath the barren soil. Silvery in hue but more pale in color. The land I stepped on was dead.

I looked behind me and only became aware of the path of carnage I walked. Dead animals littered the ground, the lush verdant plain covered in blood. The trees slashed from its side and singed on the other. The fire was still burning. The eggs unborn cracked as the mother birds was either stabbed or burnt. There were creatures too that clinged on but the embers spreading and the smoke that engulfed the forest, I doubt if ever they made it.

I ran past the forest denying and fearing. I was the culprit. Who else but me, the one who held the blood caked sword and worn out torch, that did it all. I burnt the paradise. I laid waste to the garden. I couldn’t have. It wasn’t me. I did not do it. I stopped in my tracks. With shortness of breath, I threw what I was carrying and knelt. How can I be forgiven? A small lake appeared before me, mirrored on it the moonlight that shone lovely, the clouds cleared, and the red forest was at peace. Everything turned silent. I walked toward the edge of the lake and saw my face reflected. I was smiling.