Tuesday, July 23, 2024

Losing Heaven

By Jireh Catacutan | The Sillimanian Magazine

In your presence, I am limitless yet tainted and defiled.

Far from the days of my innocence, before your hand reached mine

sitting by the pews, in front of the altar, under glass stained windows, 

a mosaic of saints whose names I have long forgotten.

This house was once my solace, sacred, Maker’s temple 

where outside a crucifix pierced the southern Negros sky.

But lured by the silence in your company, I abandoned my faith

for you fooled me better than the preachings of a man from the pulpit.

Now bearing a cross amidst conformity, I try to resist temptation

but I continue to search for things that quench my thirst

like the blood red wine I used to drink on Sunday morn. 

In the days we spend apart,  I look for you in every aisle and corner

inside this holy temple, hoping for the chance that in my absence,

I was desired too. As if tethered, I am now drawn to you, but if

I succumb, tell me, is this place worth losing heaven?


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