SPEAK
O! FELICITOUS LADY!
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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