swing high the hoe and plant it deep
in the bosom of the earth is our rebirth


i traveled the distance
from the stockade
to a place
i may call a home.

in between are detours
in search for open doors.

my pen sings
the notes of the years
in the measure of life
that throws me back
into the bosom of our land
in the rhythm man

i woke up to see
and greet another day
unfolding for our people
decades of misery.

the sunrise in the horizon
paints our vision.

3. and we traveled alone

as the night goes deep

to the farmland

where the farmers sleep.

4. bells hear the bells

of the rising sun

hear the cheers and songs

that bring joy to man.

5. life is an unending reverses

that writes the measured verses

the magnificat of dry paddies]

that fills with song

our empty cry.

6.    clinched fist strong and bold 

with faith the moments hold

the golden haste

of the setting sun

brings hope to the race of man.

7. sweet mystery of faith

in the greening of the plain

strength and courage of hope

in the paschal refrain.

8. the sun hides

the face from my earth

and darkness crept.

i hold on to the   light

of my inner strength.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s