Mayon Volcano

(Restive Mayon Volcano suddenly reminded me of a poem I wrote a couple of years back. This majestic product of geologic design never ceases to amaze me. During times of her fiery fury, I long to be near her to see how she gives us a glimpse of what she is really made of -- superheated, red, molten magma and not dry, grey, cold rock gloriously crowned with white clouds. She is the closest thing we have for a vision of a real dragon. My closeness to her comes from the fact that I was born in Polangui, a small town in Albay not far from Mayon, in 1952. Born in the Year of the Dragon at the feet of a "living dragon" is one awesome thought for me.)

To know you

one has to be

born with you;

hence no one

ever will --

except the One

who formed you

from the furious

depths of the Earth.

Your deep blue mantle rises

gently from the lush fields.

Puffs of cloudy breath send forth

a welcome signal: PEACE!

Alone you stand

in the restful expanse

guarding the skies,

the land and

the sea.

You mask your own fury

with perfect bearing

or do you speak

the wrath of others?

We stand in awe

at the sight of you

for we know how many

have tasted your judgment.

Alas, the call to duty

awakens your senses

and the rumblings

deafen as magma rises.

You must SHOUT

with the voice of heaven:

a danger knell

to those who sleep in death.

Fiery red veins

glow wildly in the night,

torrents of molten rocks

charge down blindly,

smoke, thunder and lightning explode in the air:

if this is a show, what more should we see?

To know you

one has to be

born with you:

now I know

what you mean --

the things you show us

from the heart of the Earth

reveal the birth of

everything.