“There must be something strangely sacred about salt.
It is in our tears and in the sea.”
from SAND AND FOAM (1926) by Khalil Gibran

Matthew 5:13— “You are the salt of the earth. But if
the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty
again? It is no longer good for anything, except to
be thrown out and trampled underfoot.”

There is ache in what remains
when the water leaves—
salt—
grain of wound,
trace of devotion.

Let the sting still mean something.
Let the body remember
why we weep.

I’ve knelt
on coarse salt before,
knees burning and trembling
before my mother’s altar
where prayer was something
whispered through grit teeth.

They said we are made from earth.
But when I broke,
it was water that spilled.

And haven’t oceans
cradled what could not be held?
Do we not carry
the sea in our eyes?

So if I am salt,
teach me
to be worth my weight,

to be seasoned with mercy,
to burn beneath the sun
and still taste of grace.

And if I must dry,
let me be
preserving.

Sacred.
Sea.
Yours.

Arvin Narvaza

Arvin Narvaza writes from Cagayan de Oro. Currently, he is on study leave to pursue a doctorate degree, but he is, nevertheless, a faculty member of the Communication Arts, Languages, and Literature unit of the University of Science and Technology of Southern Philippines (USTP).Arvin’s poems have appeared in Bisaya Magasin(Manila Bulletin), Dagmay Literary Journal, and Habi. He will also be read in a forthcoming issue of Hong Kong’s Voice and Verse Poetry Magazine.

 

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