“The Mountain Jonquil”


(I first saw the mountain jonquil described in the book “Francis, the Journey and the Dream” by Fr. Murray Bodo, OFM. Fr. Bodo wrote that St. Francis was once gazing at the breathtaking panorama of Assisi and the valley of Spoleto when he looked down and saw a tiny mountain jonquil. St. Francis all at once forgot the majesty of the mountains and the valleys and concentrated on the tiny flower which looked so delicate and trembling in the mountain wind, with its life so brief and vulnerable, but glorifying God by simply being what it was. Then I thought, “I am like the tiny mountain jonquil. Frail, delicate, with life that could be snuffed out in an instant. I cannot claim to be more than what I am. Maybe, knowing and accepting yourself deep down is the basic relationship of a creature to its Creator.” This tiny mountain jonquil inspired me to write this prose.

“The Mountain Jonquil”
(by Teresita Carigma Palos)

The mountain jonquil
Celebrating the dance of life aloft,
Bestowing kisses on the sky.
Resplendent is the tapestry surrounding it,
Of varying forms and hues.
Whilst that tiny flower,
ever so tiny, so simple,
almost unnoticeable
in the midst of more conspicuous beauties.
There it stands proud and vain,
Glorifying the awesome majesty of its Maker,
Witnessing to His nonpareil creativity.
With gaze probing beyond the infinite horizon.
Its minute stature
Effervescent with sunshine and laughter,
Mindless of its trembling and delicate existence.
Preoccupied in just simply being,
And by so being, fulfilling its destiny.


“A Gift Called Dad”


When I was younger, I never quite understood
your strange, unique and funny ways.
I didn’t appreciate much the wisdom of your words…
nor the lessons in your silence.
I took it for granted
that you put on hold your own dreams,
that I may live a comfortable and secured life.
I’d like to take this time to thank you, Dad.

Thank you for making time despite your work.
Thank you for guiding me
when I was struggling with the challenges I faced.
Thank you for your unconditional love
when I was headstrong and defiant.
Thank you for protecting me
and at the same time letting go,
as I strive for independence.
Now that I am older, I appreciate you more.
God has given me the greatest gift–
and that’s you, Dad.

(Author Unknown)


“The glory of children are their fathers.” Proverbs 17:6

On a Lighter Note


On a Lighter Note

A sari-sari store in the Philippines is a small convenience store that sells almost everything. It’s literally a variety store. I looked up the blogs of others whom I’m following and I wonder why their pages look so adorable. My page, in comparison, looks so comically puny, displaying visuals like a steering wheel, an LRT, and other unrelated photos when my topic was about God. Then I thought maybe I should close down my store, my blog. I was never a good salesperson. I remember one time I ventured into selling diamond and gold jewelry. I had them custom made by a jeweler. When I was selling them to my friends, they were all awed by them but nobody wanted to buy. Not liking that feeling of being jilted, and with all those jewelry pieces to dispose of but no one to buy, I gave them away to my family and friends! Maybe, they knew me so well, they were only waiting for me to dispose of my products for free.

That should be my attitude, giving away for free, without a price. I should be writing without any attachments, writing only as I am moved. Anyway, I’m enjoying the blogs of some people I follow. In the Philippines, there are what we call “nuisance candidates” in political elections. Call me a “nuisance blogger”, I won’t really mind. I’m enjoying myself too much meeting other people and reading their blogs. “Give, and it shall be given to you.” (Lk. 6:38)

“And That Is Why You Are My Friend”


(Here’s a poem by Czarina H. Roldan which I learned in grade school. I was trying to google it to copy and paste, but I could not find it. Good thing I still remember it. I set it into a melody many years ago so I won’t forget it. It is so good to have a friend and to be someone else’s friend.)

You are my friend because
you share a laughter in my heart
that others cannot know.
You are my friend because
together without words
we worship our common deities
yet you never trespass the sanctuary
that is myself.
And I, though I stand in awe at the mystery of you being friend to me,
I stand in greater awe at the mystery that is yourself,
which in the sanctity of this friendship,
I might never know nor seek to know.
You are my friend because
absent or present you stay.
Laughter and praise,
reproach and blame you stay.
And that is why you are my friend.