Six Seasons in Quezon

Six years have spun like sunlight through the leaves, A Northern Quezon tapestry my heart weaves. From city clamor to a gentler sway, A different rhythm marked each passing day. I first arrived, a stranger at the gate, Where emerald hills on azure skies would wait. The air, so clean, a balm upon my soul, A story whispered making me feel whole. I learned the names of trees I'd never known, The rustling secrets that the breezes blown. The taste of pancit habhab, sharp and bright, Beneath the lanterns of a starlit night. The winding roads, a journey to explore, Past fields of green where carabaos would snore. The sudden vistas breathtaking and wide, Where mountain ranges stretched in solemn pride. I saw the rice fields emerald in the sun, The patient farmers 'til the day was done. The simple joys, a harvest shared with grace, A quiet strength etched on each weathered face. The crashing waves along the coastline's edge, Where rocky shores met ocean's endless pledge. The salty air, the cries of seabirds high, Beneath a vast and ever-changing sky. I walked the trails where ancient trees stood tall, And felt the whispers of the waterfalls. The cool clear waters tumbling down the stone, A primal beauty uniquely Quezon's own. The laughter shared with neighbors kind and true, The local markets vibrant, fresh, and new. The occasions with colors bold and bright, A community spirit burning ever light. But then the call, a whisper on the breeze, To venture forth across the island seas. To Polillo's shores, a voyage I would take, Where turquoise waters shimmered in the wake. The boat ride there, a journey wild and free, Past smaller islets rising from the sea. The taste of salt, the sun upon my face, Arriving at a new and wondrous place. The quiet charm of island life unfurled, A different rhythm in that tranquil world. The sandy beaches pristine, white, and wide, Where gentle tides would softly ebb and glide. Through rainy seasons and the summer's heat, This land has nurtured me, made my life complete. Fourteen years have passed, a page etched in time, Of Northern Quezon forever in its prime, Within my memory, a cherished gentle space, A longing lingers for that peaceful loving place. ©bfa041525