Is this nature's graffiti? Who is going around painting the arbours with the colours of the rainbow? Why the bravura before the leaves fall and die? All the colours of autumn become the central image of the poem that revels in the graffiti-like riot of hues. The question became the ligne donee of the poem "Autumn's Question" which this writer wrote to welcome the fall with. The Pope, speaking to a group of religious leaders in England during his state visit, stepped into the debate and conceded that the human and natural sciences "provide us with an invaluable understanding of aspects of our existence.but the disciplines cannot satisfy the fundamental question about why we exist.nor indeed can they provide us with an exhaustive answer to the question 'Why is there something rather than nothing.' " Nobel Laureate and Physicist Stephen Hawking, an emeritus professor visiting Canada's University of Waterloo, came out recently with an obiter dictum that God was not necessary to create the universe. Someone has painted the rainbow on small palms of leaves. Something, someone, did one over the city’s graffiti lads today: Why is there something rather than nothing? That crumples something to nothing? This fall, we ask again: Or what language of absence befuddles before this death What language of grandeur echoes in these ancient retreats? Or even nothing? What temples rise from the deluge of shades, What does this arboreal splendour, this arbour’s magic,Ĭhange sylvan verdance for? Why the circus of coloursīefore autumn’s chill crinkles leaves to brittle brown, black, This fullness of surprise is still our constant wonderment: Sistine vault, Klee’s templegarten, Monet’s pond. Of maples and birches and whimpering willows, a cul de sac’s Of foliage, a mayhem of hue cutting through dreary treetops,Īn assault on the bleakness of a clean well-lighted street,Ī rampage of glee gone berserk on a roiled canvas of forestĪwash with windswept strokes running riot along walls There’s paint all over the cobbled boulevard, a chiaroscuro Someone, something, put one over the graffiti Pollocks today: Why do we exist? Why is there something rather than nothing? This ancient mariner, bedazzled by his grandchildren’s confidence and derring-do, failed to even get past the first pontoon despite their egging him on: Come on, ‘lolo! You can do it! Just do it! - Writer's Notebook on a Family Break at Great Wolf Lodge, Niagara Mikey bested his cousins in the game of balancing on the lily pads (mock pontoons) while crossing the pool without falling into the water before he gets to the last pontoon. As a journalist, he worked with the United Press International and wrote an art column for the defunct Philippines Herald. He was a Fellow at the 1972 Silliman University Writers Workshop, Philippines. His fiction and poetry were published by online literary journals Asia Writes and Coastal Poems recently. His latest work, A Theory of Echoes and Other Poems was published February 2009 by the University of Santo Tomas Publishing House. He has won awards for his works in Canada, the U.S.A., and the Philippines. He has authored books of poetry, short stories, literary theory and criticism. Literature and English, magna cum laude), he taught English and Literature (Criticism, Theory, and Creative Writing) at the Philippines' De La Salle University and San Beda College. Thomas (now University of Santo Tomas, Manila. A graduate of the Royal and Pontifical University of St. He was nominated to the Mississauga Arts Council Literary Awards in 2007. CASUGA, a Philippine-born writer, lives in Mississauga, Ontario, Canada, where he continues to write poetry, fiction, and criticism after his retirement from teaching and serving as an elected member of his region's school board.
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