So heavy, heavy a rain
And in times like this
when the sky is breaking
shrieking in thunder
and crying with lightning
I remember myself
as a child, hiding
somewhere, sometime
when we stop by
in my grandparents’ house
waiting for the rain to stop
while my lola is grinding
coffee, and my lolo,
telling a story of long ago
of time when tale were still long
that it has to be cut
for the next night
when the light comes back
My lola would prepare us cocoa
from cacao at their backyard
and a steamed gabi
or biscuits so hard
that we would not need thread
or a door or a dentist
for our shaky teeth to be removed
And when the rain finally stops
when the road starts to dry
my tears too begins to fall
as by the end of the rain
also means our leaving
and my lolo’s story
next time, be started again
which also means forgetting
the start or where it ended
until another story will be told
or not told any again
My lolo’s stories always have starts
but they are always cut
when the rain starts to end
like the one about a monkey
a monkey and his turtle friend
although my lolo never finished it
of later time I learnt the story
and truth be told:
I am thankful that it was ended
just before their friendship was cut
And even if we have the chance now
to listen to my lolo’s tale
my lolo’s own is already cut
just months after my lola’s
coffee got cold
sometime like this
when the sky is breaking
shrieking in thunder
and crying with lightning
The downpour is already starting to end
What a heavy, heavy a rain
