A Day Trip to Pampanga

Weaving between countless skyscrapers

that enclose the city like prison bars,

and navigating the tangled mess

of people and cars,

my bus makes the slow,

painstaking escape--

from the suffocating air

of jeepney barkers and

construction workers and

incessant advertisers--
to finally being able

to breathe.

To breathe in

the expansive green fields

of young rice and silvergrass,
and paddies that mirror

the endless blue sky,

the quizzical crow,

and egrets white as snow,

To breathe out

on swings and rickety roundabouts,
laughter and songs of praise,

for the sun that is shining
unapologetically through
the branches and boughs

of the faithful trees of old.

Where the skies turn pink at dusk,
and the haze glows like pixie dust;
Where the stars shine as bright
as Christmas lanterns and lights;

Highway after highway

I hold you close,
for I am not meant to stay,
A kiss goodbye
to remember me by
and as thanks
for letting me live free for a day.