अंकल अल Eleven

Seed Sown

Your seed now planted
It's weeds now grow
Through sidewalk cracks
Through Brick wall
Old Manong, we find a way
To write our poems
Like the weed we grow strong
We will not stop
Our ink spills like blood
Crimson across the pulp
A thousand hands now write as one
Your inspiration gives us life
Our pens once dry
Now run with ink
Our hearts once heavy
Now lighten with a faith
A faith born from your promise
Your gift unseen
To those who cannot understand
Our pens now glide
Across the paper landscapes
Across our imaginations
Your gift, in our hands
Like raw clay waiting for shape
Our minds now churn
Churn with the pulse of our ancestors
Tradition burns like desire
Deep within darkened city streets
Our thoughts now travel
Across the seas of time
Our thoughts now cry out
The chain broken
Once holding us back
Now setting us free
Your gift ten thousand flowers
Blooming under a blood red moon
Images brought forth in pain
Now soothed with the balm of kindness
You give us life
As you walk past death
No chains hold you now
You are free
To watch over your children
Child of the pen
Born to the paper
Our gift is yours