A garland of words

(In Memoriam, Vincent Jan Cruz Rubio: 24 October 1980 - 24 March 2009)

By: Noel Sales Barcelona

I'm sorry if not even

a single candle

colorless and odorless

is lit on March 24th in my altar

or in any other altars, in memory of you.

I have to admit:

I have been preoccupied

by some things

that I forgot all about you

I am very sorry, comrade!

But now memories

are coming back to me

Fragments of you

being blown by the gentle breeze

Just like the flowers of tall grass

in-front of our humble abode.

It is now clear just like

the mirror just in front of me

the memoirs of your passing

on that fateful day

of March 24th, MMIX

That day that we all cried and sobbed

Learning that you have already

embraced the light

Though the form

of your passing is gory and dark.

But, as the shadow of Death

is overcoming you,

Dragging you in the Bed of Endless Slumber:

You have never failed to give us

that thin ray of light

so that we would see the truth:

That death comes in all forms:

It could be painful like yours

or so gentle that no one

can even feel the fury

of its sharp claws and fangs.

However, Death cannot claim you

In your wholeness;

He cannot completely devour you.

He did leave us a piece of you,

A little fraction of your self,

Which, at the end, will remain alive

And that fragment

will visit us, every now and then

in the hour of our deep slumber

on the time that we are at work or play

Pinching a part of our mortal hearts,

thereby leaving a mark that can never be erased

That mark that he has left

Will bleed rivers of flesh blood

That will water the lilies

and roses and temple flowers

Surrounding your home somewhere out there

Thus, allowing them to bloom

And soon, as the Grandfathers' Clock strikes

Announcing the hour when

we will going to meet you

In your private place yonder:

Upon meeting us there, you will adorn

our necks with garlands

And we will adorn yours

with our memories of you.

Then we will laugh and cry and play

And chase away those fears,

Wipe away those tears

That has devoured us, that had blinded us

On March 24th, MMIX...

Hasta la vista, Sr. VJ!

Till we meet again...