Year of the Rooster


AMUSING it is as I muse

on the rooster’s different forms

throughout the ebb and flow of time,

finding not a difference but rather

a semblance of us Filipinos:


We could be in cockpits sparring

with each other with blunt spurs.

Only one shall be regarded victor.


We could be as sacred as we could

desire, beings as high as the sun

praising and venerating one another.


We could be crowing for those forsaking

Jesus Christ as their faith peters out.

And that is all we could do: crow.


We could be perched atop weather vanes

stock-still praying bahala na, not until the winds

dictate the direction we would be facing.


We could be strutting and striding on the land,

we animals of pride. Or yet, we could try flying

but reach only midair, for that is who we are:


Roosters. Nikko Miguel M. Garcia