From the window pane
rice fields stretch and shimmer
westward slivers a path
out of gaze along the winding vale.
Ancient farmers gave names
to winds from certain places
with a sense of the invisible
that I first felt and remembered
Sea from the blue sky,
thousands of sparrows dappled its face
I didn't know that there
was a word for life's desires
To leap out of itself
Now looking down and
swooping past my window
and I stand still in wonder.
Around My House
To the east sits steady
Ki Agang’s throne
A splendid blue volcano
where the sun slips in at dawn
The south sprawls a cacophony
of people, friends and kin
clump of trees and concrete
to lose cares in the busy din.
The vast north open boundless
where soothing breeze begin
and Simurai skims the clouds
and the road to dreams open
Sunsets to the west bodes peace
and balmy tranquility sleeps
at Baao lake where my people began
with God’s glory, grandeur, and gifts.
At Barlin Park
Summers end at Barlin park
beneath St. Bartholomew’s
I’d climb the stone bulwark
slippery and wet with dew
and see the town anew
then I would jump free
to the soft grass below
on scraped hands and knee
as others would follow
and roll away triumphantly
and the monkey bars will call
and we clamber up the device
arm over arm we’d crawl
through a gauntlet of pipes
till at last our breath sufficed
no one remembered home
and we wished for the rain
scanning the clouds that roam
as we cleared the grass of grain
where last summer we had lain
come at last the first raindrops
from skies turning grey and dim
I’d close my eyes to the drops
till water reach grass tips rim
and lift me off a carpet of green
The Illustrious Msgr. Jorge Barlin Imperial
Dominican tertiary, first native bishop of the
In this Review, we said something about the life of this renown prelate, a Dominican tertiary, who had lived defending us and died loving us. Now we shall say something about his death in order to mourn him and beg our readers to pray for his soul.
The illustrious Filipino prelate was not yet old. He was born in Baao on April, 1850. He was every bit a ‘Spaniard’ and a Dominican. He was consecrated bishop of Nueva Caceres on June 1906. When he came to Rome in May of this year 1909, for the purpose of making an ad limina visit, he became grievously ill in the Eternal City and suffered with great courage until he died on the fifth day of September in the college of the Spanish Dominican fathers at Via dei Condotti [see photos], comforted by all the sacraments and the special apostolic blessing sent by His Holiness Pius X.
Vested in episcopal regalia, his body was waked in the church. The day after his death, a solemn funeral Mass was celebrated. The Reverend Father Jeronimo Coderch, Consultor of the Sacred Congregation for the Sacraments and assistant to the Most Reverend Master General of the Order of Preachers, officiated. The aforementioned Reverend Father General Jacinto M.a Cormier intoned the final prayers of commendation for the dead.
Various cardinals, bishops, superiors general of religious orders, secular priests, and devout members of the Roman nobility attended the funeral.
The cadaver of the virtuous Dominican bishop was placed on an elegant funeral car and brought to the cemetery of Campo Verano, and laid to rest in the chapel owned by the Dominican Fathers in that cemetery.
May the illustrious prelate rest in peace!
Rose in her hand, and moist eyes young with weeping,
She stands upon the threshold of her house,
Fragrant with scent that wakens love from sleeping,
She looks far down to where her husband plows.
Her hair dishevelled in the night of passion,
Her warm limbs humid with the sacred strife,
What may she know but man and woman fashion
Out of the clay of wrath and sorrow—Life?
She holds no joys beyond the day’s tomorrow,
She finds no worlds beyond her love’s embrace;
She looks upon the Form behind the furrow,
Who is her Mind, her Motion, Time and Space.
O somber mystery of eyes unspeaking,
O dark enigma of Life’s love forlorn;
The Sphinx beside the river smiles with seeking
The secret answer since the world was born.
I'm seen all around as everyone knows
on my shoulders the birds launch to fly,
and my feet are crowded with swallows,
the last stop to the place where they die.
My pillow is the moon slowly rising,
and the wind sprinkle my clothes with sand,
these eyes that seek out what meaning,
to the torn and forgotten toils of my hands.
my pulse muffled and chained and mellow,
someday it will burst out through this cast
like flowers planted amidst grass down below,
someday picked, like names from your past.
Till then, I'll hide my soul in this rock,
With the spit and scratches in the paint,
And yield to the flood of your neglect,
With my proud demeanor well spent.
And you may cover me then with darkness,
sweep my base with a flick of your wrist.
Under my shadow, this accursed harness--
To watch over you and all that there is.
On the Late Morning of June 29, 1906, inside the University of Santo Tomas at what was then the Dominican Church of Sto. Domingo, multitudes gathered under drizzly weather on an event never seen by Filipinos in three centuries of Catholicism. The event was the Consecration of the Bishop of far away Caceres on whose elevation to the purple ended the centuries-long yearning of the Filipino Clergy for recognition of their capacity to reach the fullness of the priesthood. Msgr. Jorge I. Barlin's consecration ended too a turbulent period in Philippine Church History that wrought havoc on the changing Filipino conciousness of nationalism, it ended the question of whether the Filipinos can truly be trusted to govern themselves, if not yet politically then ecclessiastically. Bishop Barlin's role as Apostolic Administrator has proved his capacity to hold his flock together even amidst the onslaught and encroachment of a Nationalist Church fast gaining favor among Filipino minds resentfull of any foreign influence. His consecration too was also a beginning; the Filipino began to find that they can live well enough with even the foreign heritage of their past and yet retain the nuances of their race, that they can live in harmony, albeit uneasy, among nations, the hierarchy of the Universal Church and all that was brought by the birththroes of the 21st century--- and yet maintain their Filipino identity.
Paulix, Understandably, you're already committed to push through your Barlin Conference Souvenir Program by May. Then you should. As you say, that won't close our option to still do a Kaiba Barlin Centennial Yearbook. We'll see. Nonetheless, do email to me your BCSP ad solicitation letter please. Yours, -- Jun Ramirez