By Jose Maria Sison

In the evening
Dewdrops linger
On the lips
Coaxing
The rosebud
To yield
Its innermost
Yet seizing stars
To see through
The dark
Not with a few
But myriad eyes.

In the morning
Flaming petals
Laugh at the sky
And fill the air
With joy
As if the sun
In one outburst
Has lent fire
To the blood of earth
Now leaping, blooming
Among leaves
And thorns.

The thalamus
Of the red rose,
A chalice
With proud stamen,
Holds the secrets
Of distilled
Seas and rivers,
Of voyages
Twixt sod and god.
How sweet
Is the laughter
Of pistil and petals!