Wednesday, March 12, 2014


Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

Speak to me, dear Friend!
Are you a ghost—a ghost of Light—
That smashes the granite rocks of masks
I’ve upon myself built with esteem’s cement?
Speak! Lady chronicler of the inner theatres!
Behold! We need no longer pass along
This world’s tortuous roads as our monads fuse—
Yours and mine, mine and yours.
Regain shall I my own pure unbesmirched
Halo of intelligence and will and aspiration:
You are the sacred moment that fertilizes
Again like unto growing buds of verdant lores
This sanctified shadow of my inner theatre.
Speak! Lady of the free spirits!
Quench my thirst for tales of delight!
You are the tale, the bringer of delight,
The ultimate acting being in the Thespian stage.
Receive my swearword: I offer
To you the wakened ghost of mine, once more
To amplify your limitless experiencing of the magic
In the world of humans; my words, planted and grown

[Writ. 19 November 1988, Proj. 8, Quezon City, M.Manila]

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