Poetry
Many thanks to Norma Rieza Benzon for sharing with us the following beautiful poems she wrote during her college days which were published in our Alma Mater's premier newspaper, "The Builder".
by Norma Rieza Benzon
Drips of falling rain are scattered rhythmically.
every drop,
every grain,
every sphere
gathers fragments of a love
once broken to pieces.
I touch and try to clasp every drip of falling rain
through my fingers,
through my hands
Then, I remember
a sobbing and murmuring heart
recomposes a sonata whose melody
was once appreciated and treasured
by another soul.
And traces how
the weeping, falling rain
drowned and chilled a warmly
deciphered meeting that could
define a love.
Amidst the crystalline grains,
tenderness drowned in oblivion.
A song lost its meaning
with fractures of heavy sigh.
I mourn because you faded away�
an ache,
a pain,
a wound
Defined under the dripping
R A I N .
by Norma Rieza Benzon
Why should I love the rain?
its icy wind,
winds a ghostly touch
to my fevered heart.
I blame the rain
for bringing with it
the trace of a lingering ecstasy
left on the sands of a beach foam
by a fractured love and left me alone
with my nighness.
With your absence I began my own crucifixion
tears, sighs, moans:
drowned, etherized, densed by the rain
that diffused with the tears
that descended through my cheeks.
Yet, why do I love the rain?
it falls, it drips, it drops, it stops.
And when it stops, your faded presence
is felt once more.
an ache, a pain ceases because,
its wounds that beat rhythmically
with the humming and murmuring
of the leaves scattered by the rain
have been nursed by you.
YOU --- MY VERY SOUL.
I sigh, I cry, I moan, only to laugh again
for the falling rain has obstructed my tears
with tranquility and joy.
Childish and naughty,
exaggerated with serenity.