Jose Roman Reyes Laquian is an accomplished Filipino poet from the province of Pampanga in the Philippines. An architect by profession, he has practiced his trade in the Philippines, Malaysia and Singapore, and in the Sultanate of Oman and State of Qatar, in the Middle East. Jose Roman is married to Buenafe Alcaraz with whom he is blest with five children, and seven grandchildren. As of this present time, Mr. Roman is engaged in his passion for both painting and poetry writing. This is his second appearance as UPLI Poet of the Month. He was first featured in January 2022.
Should I reveal the things I feel
two words would sum them all,
two words that mean “To You, I will
entrust my heart and soul.”
Two tender words that ring a bell
and bid sick hearts to rise,
two words that make a living hell
become a paradise.
Should I avow the way I feel,
“I Love You” is enough,
from other words, they always will
inspire when times get rough!
But should I miss to say these words
('though loving none but you)
I'll say the Faithful Words “I CARE”
instead of “I LOVE YOU.”
For Caring is like Sharing
the joys and happiness,
the heart's aches and its yearnings,
the warmth and tenderness.
So, should I miss the three words, Dear,
('though I Live Just For You)
I say the Faithful Words “I CARE”
instead of “I LOVE YOU.”
Peace and quiet and open air and wind embracing me,
seeing, touching, breathing, feeling what seems eternity.
O Nature - mother, teacher, giver of life’s melody
and fountain of unceasing joy, I love to be with thee!
I love to tread thy vast expanse and flutter with the breeze
and dance and sway, like one at play, with thy surrounding trees;
I love to hold thy fallen leaves and blow them one by one,
to fly like a spirit freed from this shell known as “man.”
I haste to touch thy verdant lawn, thy tender blooming flowers,
thy leafy boughs and orchids fair in myriad ornate bowers,
I marvel at thy throng of ants patiently gather breads
and store them in a nest-crowned tree with dingy holed-up beds.
I want to take a closer look at thy unspoiled lagoon
and bend, to watch gold fishes swim, like a drooping laburnum;
I'd like to downward bend and see my image mirrored still
until the wind bids it be kissed by lovely daffodils.
I listen to the gallant bee sing love songs to his rose,
where, with a strain of humming buzz, it sounds quite well up-close
and likewise to thy fowls and birds with tweeting, chirping sounds,
unconscious that the missing joy within myself abounds.
O Nature, I do seem to feel my spirit move in me
that I feel very much alive and young and truly free,
that I am like thy air of life which floats so gracefully
and breathes among thy clouds and space, and GOD’s humanity.
O how I wish to treasure and engulf thy earth and sky
that thou may always live in me, in my heart’s bed to lie,
that thou may be the joy and life and music within me,
the poem that is yet by far more lovely than a tree.
O Nature - mother, teacher, giver of life’s melody
and fountain of unceasing joy, I love to be with thee!
When darkness falls upon this earth
and sadness in each mirth covert,
When all seem at a loss in storm,
Strengthen me, to “Carry On!”
O ABBA FATHER, let me see
in me an open heart, a key
to Thine Sweet Peace and Euphony
wherein LOVE dwells in Unity!
Let Thy GREAT LOVE on mankind reign
(Contentment, Joy and Peace ordain);
And, ABBA FATHER, let my being
give Thee All Praise and Thanksgiving!
And . . . when my journey’s at its end,
In lowly form, ailing I bend,
O ABBA FATHER, once again
Be Thou at my bedside. Amen.
How verily so clear I see
Devotion-filled in the duty —
Seconds, minutes, hours, daily
Spent and shared unselfishly . . .
With open arms and open heart,
With care and comfort to impart,
The adoration from the start
Is such a Love, a Work of Art . . .
A Mother’s Love is something more
Than youthful beauty men adore,
It is the Home the heart beats for,
A gentle knock-on heaven’s door . . .
It's like the sunshine in the morn
When time seem hopeless and forlorn,
It's like the glow after the storm,
The coloured rainbow’s beauteous form . . .
A Mother’s Love is forgiving
Despite the hurt and heart breaking,
When every care is vanishing,
It's Love that is . . . Never Failing!
Endless and unconditional,
Unselfish and instinctual,
A Mother’s Love is Eternal
Joy and Peace Without an Equal . . .
A many splendoured miracle
Far above all magic and spell,
A kiss to make the hurting well,
The Love where sings the heart that dwell . . .
A Mother’s Love is sacrifice
Of heart and mind, and good advice,
It's praise and inspiration’s price
Which radiates from a Mother’s Eyes . . .
It is patient, kind and humble,
It bears things and does not grumble
When all hell breaks loose and crumble,
It endures . . . strong and able!
It sees and understand all tears,
It calms and drives away all fears,
It is the Gentle Voice one hears,
One’s Source of Comfort Through The Years . . .
It's the Sweet Thoughts that follow me
Every which way that I may be,
It is the prayer with a plea
That our GOD will watch over me . . .
Alone it is that understand
When things go awry in the land,
The Evidence through ages spanned
Of GOD's own . . . Tender Guiding Hand!
Beneath the evening glow of the moonlight
And the smile of the starry sky,
There, in my scented Garden of Delight,
Of glorious, beauteous form you mystify.
O' star shaped, pure flower of silent night,
How sweetly spring you like a lullaby!
Born of the night and nurtured by sunlight,
The blest fragrant beauty of times gone by.
From a flowering large bush most pleasant
Is that sweet scent drift over where you dwell,
Small and white, yet verdantly fragrant,
The evergreen exuding wondrous smell;
Gracefully climbing are you, beauteous plant,
By sun and moon nurtured and cherished well,
Your white blooms with sweet scents remain constant,
Of unspoiled beauty your countenance spell.
I shall lie there with you in my garden,
O' Beauty, like a Pampangueña’s aura;
In bloom, you are like a lovely maiden,
Soft and delicate, Sweet SAMPAGUITA;
Cool and breezy flower, time and again
You lull my soul with your sweet aroma;
You’re my breath of fresh air under heaven,
O' So Sweet SAMPAGUITA,
You, LA FLOR DE PAMPANGA!
NOTE:
What is called as “Sampaguita” by all Filipinos (not only by the Taga-ilog or Tagalogs (Riverdwellers), is the meaning of “small flower” which was taken or drawn out from the noun “Sampaga” (English: “Flower”) of the Ancient Taga-pampang or Capampangans (Riverbank/Rivershore dwellers).
