Ocean of Thoughts

Take me back to the time
When what around me was not valued
When I only see mountains
And the beautiful Mayon
I could scream and hear
An echo calling me back

Take me back to the time
When I was surrounded by cornfields
Golden before harvest time
Only to be stolen the day after
But it did not matter
Because we still have others

The sugarcane, the key lime, the kamias
All so bountiful
We had to guard the chickens
From the hawk squaring the farm
I did not know in the decades
We’ll be guarding the land
From predators far worse than hawks

Because now the land turned suburban
What was once filled with beautiful trees
Are now filled with houses
What was once our small space
Is now a subject of bigger prospects
No longer hawks gawk about
To get what was ours
There are people
Whom disguised as families
But my intuition knew better
I have to be bigger, I have to protect them
We’re the fourth generation

Mayon no longer calls me back
My views from the mountain are now blocked

Though my eyes could still remember
The beautiful mountains
My ears tingle from the past sensation
From the echoes of Mayon