The City Of Pines
In the City of Pines, vendors are everywhere. High and low prices are everywhere. The once cool region of overflowing love somehow narrowed its space for the younger generation because of commercialization.
Commercialization, on one hand, helps. On the other hand, synchronization is tantamount to compression, which can be a sign of evaporation.
Nevertheless, many people visit the City of Pines, a wonderful site in the East. Foreigners from everywhere troop to the place to witness and feel the beauty of the living pine trees around the city of Baguio -- "bag-iw" in Ibaloi, indigenous language of the region.
I had my chance of visiting the City of Pines, the home of the famous Rice Terraces. I trekked the rough roads and cliffs of the mountains. So cozy and so relieving. The scent of innocence above the mountains and serenity in waters below the mountains. An ethereal scenery with the breeze of resonating heritage.
The City of Pines is rich in culture and tradition. No one would ever wonder that an indigenous tribe can still exist up to the present time.
The musical instruments being played by the people, the indigenous materials sewn and worn by the people are the pride of the said city.
Many beautiful things and memories can be said about the City of Pines. Like the pines of my birth, very close to my heart.
Copyright © Clifford Villalon | Year Posted 2022
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment