Trains
of thoughts unscathed
by speed untouched
by distance
grope me back
to a place:
I sit
as a tree
with my roots firm
on the ground. Concrete
may fill in between,
embracing my toes, soles
and even the knees
but my still
soul moves
towards the core.
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| It was a day-off from museum work and I had a call from friends; I did an instant drawing class somewhere in very, very northern Quezon City. I had three students: Mark Lester, Stephen and Mark. They were focused in hatching strokes of graphite as some of their schoolmates sweat it out with taekwondo downstairs. |
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| It was a wonderful afternoon as I told the students about light and shade, and how they should take good care of their eyes. I remember you every time I teach. |