The Arrangement of Falling Things

Share

Along the walk to the Institute
The Indian cork tree begins its silent shift.
White, five-pointed stars rest on the pavement,
not fallen, but arranged,
as if the long night had paused here
to remember itself.

Each blossom is a cool reprieve
rising through the warm morning.
They ease your steps, inviting you
to move more slowly,
to listen for the almost-sound
of petals letting go of the air.

By the time you reach the lobby
a few small stars remain with you,
clinging to your shoes,
a soft reminder that scholarship begins
in moments like this,
in attending to what the world lays down quietly
before your moving feet.

Hope Sabanpan Yu

Hope Sabanpan Yu is a poet, essayist and fictionist. She is currently the director of the University of San Carlos Cebuano Studies
Center and the chair of the Division of the Humanities of the National Research Council of the Philippines.

Table of contents [hide]

Read More

Speak No Ill

Bad news spread like bad news does: fast, as fast as chat groups and social media could deliver it, which meant immediately. Lauro Jocson, Jr. was dead. He suffered a stroke on the...

I Was Six when My Father Brought Home a Chick

I was six when my father brought home a chickThe cheap one you see during fiestas in the barrio. I can’t recall what colorwas sprayed upon its ruffled feathers, but I remember how it...

On My Father’s Tomb

at the town’s public cemetery, I lightthree candles to celebrate his life. Their flames are tiny suns that flickeragainst the dusk. His name on the wooden cross is fading. When was my last visit...

Back to its Roots

The virus made everyone cower inside their houses—windows taped shut as if air and light were poisonous and doors locked tightly as if to shut out more than just a robber but...