Kalentura

Wide open spaces
Four lanes of eternity
Two on the sides
For lovers on bike rides
Politics plastered everywhere
A clamor for change

The heat, God, the heat
And yet, trees
Rows and rows of them
Mangroves
called "Pagatpat"
That looked like Nangka

Smoke-free zones,
Lots of them, all of them

The mellow tones of Dabawenyos
The lovely nuances of their language
The "ehls" in their tongues
easily rolling off
like lollipops sweet
But without the sugar
"Wala", "Balay, "Tulog"
The intermingling of Tagalog
and Bisaya
"Magkain", "Magpunta"
Ending each sentence with "Ba"
As in, "Gigutom kaayo ko ba",
"Grabe na kaayo atong nasud ba."
Describing the wonderful as
"Gwapo"
The handsome as "Pogi"
Change for your purchase as
"Kambyo"
Fever as "Kalentura"

I went in April.
In the height of Summer
Now it is June.
The clamor has been heard.
While the heat persists
Monsoon is here,
The weather man insists.

Indeed.
The passing of the seasons
in full glory

Dabaw, oh Dabaw,
This place in time where
Change is your name and
Soon to be ours too,
In so many ways, I can hear you say,
Like an old friend,
"Maayo kay nakaadto ka diri."