let the snow melt in your palm

(to petals)

pick a pinch of snow
enclose it in your palm
and let it melt –

there you’ll feel
the dancing waves of bundang
and bisik rivers;

the shrimps prancing high
as the ripples in diponglo laugh,

the bursting of onion sprouts
beneath the alip-ip in kalasingan field;

the buzzing of salagubang
before the night spreads.

caress the molten snow
against your cheeks
and let it whisper –

and there you’ll hear
the raging breaths of the bones
of our ancestors trapped
underneath the dam, calling at us:

“sons and daughters,
never forget, we’re waiting for your return.”