While doing a research on Professor Emeritus DR. METTA JACOBS ARMSTRONG SILLIMAN, I was drowning into a Silliman river of poetry and lit critique by her former students: Edith Lopez Tiempo, Eleonor Funda Sardual, Aida Rivera Ford... And MYRNA Peña-Reyes, my new icon in poetry. I love her river poems. I will have my own river poem soon. My name Moses leads me to a lot of rivers but I have this dream of a drama along the River Nile: my own ashes flowing as history should... and if no one will be there with the chosen clay jar, please bring the jar home where the river of my childhood dreams runs as great....
San Miguel Picnic
Sprawled on the rocks where water thrashed
I felt the river tug at my back,
jerk at my feet and drop
into a pool splashing with children.
The river sang stone
while children filled their hands with light.
Framing the sky
birds balanced on bamboo spires.
Snug in my stone and water pew
I held the foaming bottle high
and turned the sun
like amber in my hand.
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