CHANT: Poems about the Typhoon

Typhoon Juan (international code name Megi) flattened the northern parts of Luzon with sustained winds of up to 260 km/h (if I remember the reports well) or probably 230 km/h (as per information from wikipedia.org as of October 24, 2010).  We felt its presence here in Manila with the sudden darkness that enveloped the entire city, and the strong rain that flooded the street in front of our apartment.  Prior to its arrival and during its stay it made me write two poems.  Enjoy!


TYPHOON

We thought it would never come:

the dark clouds,
the rumble of an orange
world turning purple,
the slaps of light flashing
over the wet roofs and streets.

It opened its allegro
with drizzles, light gusts,
and the birds
sketching circles with their wings
slicing the serene
with piercing solos.

It compelled the birds to exit
towards the line of light
at the south and let
the symphony rise
muscular
from the orchestra of clouds.

It took the cicadas by surprise -
their choruses hovered
sudden from the trees,
the notes stuck
from the restless palms of leaves.

How it armed its way
through the city
with the unpredictable
drumbeats of rain.
How it bullied the tranquil
trebles of a sunset.
How it put us
 in our proper places -
spaces of surrender
echoing the sound
of our breaths
waiting for the music to end.



JUAN

In the higher floors you pull the horizon
closer to your heart
and watch the movement of the restless panorama - 
how the storm whirls the tails of clouds
to touch skyscrapers' scalps.

Sometimes its raindrops are the size of your fingers.
Sometimes its beastly wind tries to pull
the rusted roofs from their houses. 
Sometimes it howls, temperamental monster that it is,
you pray the grumbling walls won't fall.

Sometimes you pierce the air a sharp whistle -
a needle-pointed sound might calm it down.

But it swirls on, and you look farther
in the further gray and tributaries of lightning
hoping you were where the sky is so silent
and the world hums.

NOTE: I changed the title of the first poem, from "Symphony" to "Typhoon".  I think the new title is more appropriate.
Revised Juan, 5/9/2012. 

The Former National Bird

The Maya bird: an oriole, a finch, or a sparrow?
Above picture: a tree sparrow. (source: wikipilipinas.org)

The bird that perched on the sill

chirped a few notes with the creek

sang with the hum of the sun

and flew with the whistle of wind.

That bird, tiny and brown

as dried leaves feathering the huts

had a name so familiar

so common as grass,

I kept forgetting what it was.