Ode to the Bamboo

Sing to me
oh bamboo.
Lull me to sleep
with the wheeze
from your leaves,
emerald splinters
of a broken green sun.

Dance to the wind,
stir your pliant tubes,
bend and sway,
inverted broom
sweeping the sky
of stars.

Your ends
poking and piercing,
inciting the clouds
to give out rain.
Primitive tribes
did not sing
the first rain song.
You did.

Soon,
the rustle of
viridian leaves
will be joined
by rainfall taps
on the scalp
of the earth.
And you, bamboo
---king of the tall grasses,
ancestor of the rice stalks
and shelter of the
moths and lizards
---you are the strands
of long unbridled
hair growing
from its epidermis.

The tapping
stimulates your roots.
The rain is
your nourishment
and thus nourished,
new bamboo offspring
will sprout
at the break of dawn.

Copyright ©2007 Ronnie C. Cabañes
Pindutin ITO upang mabasa ang salin sa Tagalog.