by Lorna S. Agpay 

Rain softly fall 
in my face, 
dripping 
in my eyes 
the lucid droplets 
while 
in my feet 
fuse 
the watery soil 
of the slippery mountain 
where I crawl and clamber. 

as the rain whispers 
rhythm to my ears 
I flounder 
and  glide in the mound. 
blood drizzle in my skin 
I cried, 
tears flood in my eyes, 
not for the wound but for the heart 
and  I ascend 
to the peak 
where I shout, 
I cried. 
 

Mt. Isarog June 26, 1999 
 

Return to Bundok's Trips Page