Morning hears the panicking
Of fearful birds in the eye of sun
And settle only when
Blinding red shall close them down
On horizontal weariness.
Then Evening listens to the sighing
Tracking on her knees it seems
Sounds of living that have died
And those of living that shall die
And tiny hearts would beat along
The rhythm of a vastness.
-© 1979 SSJ
Author’s note: The poem ‘Flight’ is part of a collection of 8 poems, At The Edge of Things, written and published in FOCUS Philippines magazine way, way back in 1979 when I was still a student of electrical engineering. In time, I shall be posting the rest of the collection, in line with my effort to homestead most of my previous and current literary works here, in one place. And yes, this blog will present new materials too. Mostly poetry, some short fiction.