POEM AND RHYMES: JUST ANOTHER PASSING DAY
Just Another Passing Day
By: Ulysses C. Ybiernas | April 9, 2020
This poem comes from an old notebook I kept during my seminary days, during a deeply difficult chapter in my life.
Looking back, I can hardly describe the weight of the inner turmoil I experienced then, as if I was on a no-way-out trap. It felt like wanting to climb up a tree to escape the lions, but I just couldn't because there's a snake waiting for me there.
At that time, I was a third-year philosophy student, attending a university outside the walls of my seminary. It was the academic year of 1989 to 1990. I didn’t feel like I belonged in that environment, yet I had to be there to fulfill my academic requirements. My only companion from the seminary had already left. To make matters worse, I was also dealing with personal tension with a superior in the seminary community that left me feeling even more isolated.
Each day dragged on. I counted the minutes, wishing the hours to go away, wanting time to pass by me so quickly.
One morning of December 1989, between 9:00 and 9:30 a.m., I found myself sitting in a chair, feeling lonely, with no one to talk to, just by myself, waiting for the next class. In such a moment of quiet existence, I felt terribly down. In the silent desperation, I wrote this:
This day is dim, the skies' hanging low No one comes, no one wants to know The morning stirs, seem wild and loud Yet not a single teacher in the crowd I want to cry, to shout, hope I pray But tears won’t fall, no words to say I only hear wild laughters in the air Overly boisterous, so free from care Noisy talk drifts by and fades away The chatter walks, as the lecture stay Serene talks has to return once more As cool winds creep through the door They settle down and take their place Ears glued to words, a mock-up grace Just a lecture for another passing day Surely the day is dull, and often gray As the master drifts away from the wall Again the fancy talking ehoes the halls The bell rings, my day comes to a close Slowly thereafer, all the presence goes The day is dim, the skies' hanging low No one comes, no one wants to know The morning stirs, seem wild and loud Yet not a single teacher in the crowd I want to cry, to shout, hope to pray But tears won’t fall, no words to say Around me, I hear laughter in the air Overly boisterous, so free from care It's just a day, another passing day!
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