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Lola Lucing

Courtesy: Hannah Ballesteros

lola served on familiar ground,

mama says i could not do it

repented and cried out to God

desperate for a body that could release lola of her burden

recognition of this, once ever familiar

i beg to touch its fruit


to see emerald green


amidst the gray painted behind the mountains

7000 miles, seems a daunting task, yet

with every stride i feel the hands of those before

guide the sails, tame the seas, calm the air,

ask the storm to wait

i’ll find lola again

knowing my history and their grasp on my country

my blood rises — and I yell

thousands of years, they stained our clothes red

and thousands more, take up the kalis, iták, bunéng, binangon, parang again and again

weaving underneath the soil; her and others before

they are the root of the trees

in every breath, in every strike, in every stride, in every run in every beat, in every wound, in every scar, in every —

the mountains, among them

i will find her again


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