(In the hush of twilight, when the Gliricidia blossoms scatter like pearls upon the morning earth, a quiet beauty unfolds—a beauty that lingers, even in loss. “Whispers of Gliricidia” is a poem that captures the paradox of grace and impermanence, the silent spell of falling petals, and the haunting guilt of treading upon their delicate remains. As nature sheds its soft bloom, do we mourn its passing, or do we listen to its whispered truth—that in fading, there is light, and in loss, a lesson?)
In twilight’s hush and golden gleam,
A fleeting world drifts into dream.
A hush of petals, pale and bright,
Scattering pearls in morning light.
Beneath the sky’s unbroken gaze,
Soft blossoms weave a silent haze.
Not bold, not loud, yet deep in grace,
A whispered spell, a hushed embrace.
The tender boughs still wear their green,
A paradox of bloom unseen.
Life and longing, shade and sun,
Bound together, yet undone.
They fall like sighs upon the ground,
A petaled hush, a world unwound.
I walk—yet falter, steps unsure,
Crushing beauty I adore.
Can I not spare them, turn away,
Or is this fate that none can sway?
No trumpet calls, no grand refrain,
Yet beauty lingers, soft and plain.
The wind stirs light through ivory rain,
A fragrant hush, a sweet restraint.
No bloom can stay, yet still they show
That fleeting things can brightly glow.
O Gliricidia, quiet and free,
A lesson wrapped in mystery—
That grace resides in things that fade,
Yet in their loss, their light is made.
scribo ad LX 