Dumating ang — hindi bilang pahinga, kundi bilang paghuhubad. Hinubad nito ang alikabok sa dahon, ngunit iniwan ang lamig sa buto.
Sumunod ang — hindi bilang yakap, kundi bilang pagsubok. Tinuyo nito ang bakas ng ulan sa semento, ngunit pinawisan ang noo ng magsasaka. ulan init at hamog
The came — not as a rest, but as an undressing. It stripped the dust from the leaves, but left the cold in the bones. Dumating ang — hindi bilang pahinga, kundi bilang
So even if the sky arms itself with storms, even if the earth cracks from heat — dew will still rise at dawn, silent, returning, like the first kiss of forgetting. Tinuyo nito ang bakas ng ulan sa semento,
And between them, the settled — not as an answer, but as a reminder. That between falling and the sun's fire, there exists a veil that can caress without burning or drowning.
Then came the — not as an embrace, but as a trial. It dried the rain's traces on the cement, but made the farmer's brow sweat.