The Waves in the Waterfall, Camuiguin, Philippines, 11th April 2011

The Waves in the Waterfall

Under blankets of dense foliage,

on the smooth flat rocks of a now dead river,

past the plains of a simmering volcano,

giving life to coconuts.

Sitting above the falling white water but over the hill,

a winding jungle path led me here,

to where you could find me.

Below many trees, sitting on their roots,

with respect and deep admiration.

A band of dipping swallows and swaying vines,

black butterflies and red dragonflies.

Take flight!


Far off, distant, something is coming.

Clear blue, azure and ever racing the rapids below will run until dry.

Dry as a bone.

One day the desert will come to us all,

as our water moves on.

What remains?

The surrounding echoes and chaos in this chamber of lava?

Reverberations of the mighty force, natural and certain?

In time,

changes seem so slow.

Floating crystals

Water lies suspended for fractions of moments in perfect crystallised shapes of love and beauty.

Affected, but free.

Once inert, now enraged.

Polluted, but uncorrupted.

And in the blink of an eye, I see destiny.

A gentle flow, then dramatic movement,

forever falling,

towards tranquil pools.

Hung in ethereal light,

as they catch the sun,

they dance the precious dance,

then fall.

Dragged down into the cacophony of fierce white froth,

into this reality,

of being.

this penitence,


Dissipating into a greater collective.

The almighty one.

Bound by fate to that stream and its relentless flow to the East,

I will ever return to this point and time,

to these waterfalls,

in this dream.

Plants grow thick and fast, towards the melting sun.

We worship its arcing flux and blinding death.

In a silent rage of light,

a dying star.

Ever reaching and grasping for growth,

evolution, liberation.

Desperate with desire.

In the breath of the forest,

found rooted in love.

Blooming with life from the energy of empty rays,

fuelled by swirling vapour,

amid branches and tendrils that embrace all things.

Here where nothing is certain.

Where is reality?

What ‘we’ are?

What could ‘we’ be?

I am animal, vegetable, Chinese and Eritrean, mineral and free.

The sun can burn, the falls breath.


Dark emeralds,

the magnificent boulders lay testament to times of catastrophic upheaval.

Neither living, nor dying.

Left here, incongruous,

yet perfectly balanced, until the next wave hits.

The all consuming space between tiny crystals.

Destruction and creation.

Dismembered tree trunks.

 Once proud and tall,

now lie naked and stranded.

Uprooted and crushed, pointing to the sky.

Resembling canons, aboard Spanish Galleons.

Sailing the oceans in vessels of Catholicism, Imperialism, Disease and all forms of human suffering.

They will find no release from this tragedy.

Fallen giants, look up!

The wave is coming.

Move on.


Stricken golden leaf,

floating detached.

Falling now from the tree of life,

the place it grew and all it had known,

now caught by thermals and moving in uncertainty,

propelled towards the vortex and a watery rebirth.

Dancing in patterns and revelling in the surrounding turbulence,

nothing moves like a falling leaf.

You see the energy of youth and real joy in its journey down.

Sucked in with innocence.

Graceful, brave leaf.

Hear nothing.

I watch as you pass.

To new earth and new times.

To those places where you grow and whatever lies below.

A solitary rock falls from above and awakens the senses to new possibilities.

It brings about change.

Big bang breaks the spell of the consuming roar,

the deafening eternal static,

that is now the soundtrack to all surrounding beauty.

When the waterfalls die.


The birds lungs will grow.

The canopy will find its voice.

In bittersweet harmony.

They will sing for a short time only.


For now we are still and listen,

in awe, and in great reverence.

Focusing on the one sound.

The sound that can be felt passing through and on,

touching everything at once.

The sound of our soul hanging in eternity.

The essence of real beauty,

the gentle beating heart of true love.

Aware of the joy,

embracing us and inviting us to join.

We let go.

I am here.

In constant wonder.

A mere form,

of Maya,

with magic all around.

I am here,

concious but free,

alone in the world of miracles and astral textures,

from the Golden Gates,

below the dying stars.

In love.




Reaching out into the cosmos and discovering with glee,

a recipe to live by.

Immersed in and feeling those tiny crystals of perfection as they wash over.

If I wish, if I were able, then I can,

in a moment, touch them all.

Shadows in a corner of clouded wisdom,

my baggage relating to mere specks of revelation.

My answer to ‘no questions’.

My take on ‘no God’.

Only aware of me watching myself as I float.

Reflecting on the open, barren desert of mind.

A wild orchid gathering confidence to believe and open.

Using roots to understand,

body radiates energy and the sun is the guide.

The flower opens,

beginning a journey.

A child again, but more uncertain.

With faith ebbing and fragile,

precious innocence lost.

In pools.

Underwater I see patterns condense into rainbows

shimmering beneath new colours.

A great painter with new eyes,

prisms form and die down here.

A rainbow surrounds

Before the majestic waterfall, on a rock.

Silently stopping.

Then above all this,

standing in the middle of the sun.

Arms raised, falling backwards.

Preparing to fly.


Scratching away at ‘one’ or just polishing a shell?

All just a fleeting glance,

a grain of sand in mind.

Not more, not less.

A spider lost in its own web.

Beyond the good, bad and apathetic.

Hidden in a wave of peace,

5000 years in the making.

From the palaces of the Himalayas,

below a volcano.

Within the earth.

With no effort the illusion is destroyed.

The universe lives and breathes within.

A dipping swallow breaks the surface of a crystal rock pool, taking its first real taste of purity.

Swallow in the falls

2 Responses so far »

  1. 2

    Angela said,


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