This is My Altar

This is My Altar

by Kamila More Cabisada

Greenness of the forest in my head
Transports me to another time,
Another place
Neatly cut grass drenched with dew
Under my feet it tickles and calms
At the same time

Like the mountains of my childhood.

Baguio was incomparable, a mistress
Towering in beauty, holy stillness
Powerful in its subtle healing
Of ravaged souls, unquiet minds

The woods were a chapel of pristine
Delight–they still are
They surprise me with gifts wrapped in
Green and red
And ask me how I am

I say I am fine most of the time
I am at my best when He is around
He changes me.

Fire becomes rain
Black becomes white
Orange becomes blue
Rust becomes inox
Dust becomes flesh
Tears become joy.

This is my altar
My daily resting place.

******

(October 27, 2017)

 

this is my altar3 for jpg-2

Random Thoughts

Random Thoughts

ramdom thoughts tj1

RANDOM THOUGHTS
by Kamila More Cabisada

Kamila is trying to write her column while thinking about…

how different the world was when you were younger
how different your world is now that you are older
how greatly things change on the outside while
remaining pretty much the same on the inside

how lovely it is to be loved by Jesus
how precious it is to know that you can be still;
motionless
and He will be Lord and God just the same

how terrible it is to realize you are doing too many things
all at the same time
how wonderful it is to realize you can drop things
that seem urgent but are actually not

how priceless it is
to just be.

Kamila is going back to writing her column now;
her mind sufficiently stimulated, she thinks

she knows what book to write
and for whom

Thanks be to God
Amen.

 

Hypnotizing Chickens

Hypnotizing Chickens

by Kamila More Cabisada

How astute you are, fair clucking creature
How hard for me to chase after
The family descends at midnight tonight
You’ll be queen of my kitchen counter

You will dance, you will romp
In the sand, in the hay
In flour, in grease
In salt, in spice

You’ll be dressed in the best
Your charm put to the test
As you sit on my table tonight

What? This is a Sunday?
You must be in church, you say?
[No, you may not!]
I beg your pardon, darling sweet
There are better, brighter, hotter things
Than steeples and pews and roosters that sing

So look at me
Stare into my eyes
And come to me.

What? You must say your prayers?
Repent of your sins?
Ugh, no! Utterly morbid, my sweet
The oil in my pan will wipe your slate clean
This comes with a sure guarantee

So look at me
Stare into my eyes
And come to me.

What? So who is this Friend of yours?
You cannot stand Him up, you say?
Not even for a night with me?

I have raised you, I have kept you
Protected you, fed you
And this is how you repay me?
With abandonment? Treachery?

Look at me, I say.
Stare into my eyes.
And come to me!

But now you run, why?
Because He says you must try?
I shall break your attempt
You’ll see.

Darling friend, lovely dove
What is happening? Where are you?
I can’t see you, I can’t feel you
I am burned by this horrid Light.

Please come out. Into the darkness.
This brightness dulls my senses
It blinds me, gags me, binds me inutile
You must show yourself once more

Come out…
Into the darkness…
Show yourself…
Stare into my eyes.

And return to me.

But you will not
Since you can not
I can’t stand it —
You are free.

Chicken_on_the_run_sm

“Chicken on the Run” painting by Gena LaCoste
http://genalacoste.blogspot.com/2011/03/chicken-on-run.html

One Piece at a Time

One Piece at a Time

by Kamila More Cabisada

Sort through
Piles of discarded
Memories, leftover pain
Emptied canisters of
Bubbling laughter

Sort through
Years of tiny
Running feet in
Over-sized shoes
Grimy hands raiding
An overused ref
Makeup kits used
For watercolor art
Empty red checkbooks
Tied up with a band

Sort through
Heaps of music box dreams
Sheets, staves, notations
Audible cats
Scratching lines on the wall

Sort through tears
And dried laundry stains
And doomed coffee acid
Shards of broken glass

Sort through bits
And pieces here and there
Crawl through time
And get yourself back.

one piece at a time -zeke edit

Deja Vu (I have been here before)

Deja Vu (I have been here before)

by Kamila More Cabisada

Leaves brown and curled
Fall on my backpack
Dusty summer roadside
I see you now, Footpath

Look once, twice, thrice
Up close and discerning
Cut-outs, forms, lines
On blank papyri, swirling

Wayward ink bottles
Jive wildly in the sun
In heaps they all fall
By the wayside they call
All spent and wasted and numb

Familiar quaintness
Transfixing glow
I see you now, Footpath
I have been here before

footpath wallpaper