Diosdado Macapagal is elected President
I. Infancy
See the child?
It is mine.
With black eyes and black hair and brown skin;
It is mine.
It nurses there,
wrapped in a basket of sawali walls, and bamboo floor.
Banana leaves and palm warp the baby tight
like suman.
There are many arms to rock my child,
Many arms to rock my child
Many arms to rock my child,
Many arms to rock to sleep.
But who can sleep?
There is a sliding underground;
The bamboo posts are shaken.
My child will awaken,
And the basket home is gone.
I. Childhood
See the child?
He is theirs.
In blue and white, an old school bag, and too few books.
He is theirs.
He studies there,
Bent in writing, taking notes, and memorizing.
Goaded by exams, tuition, English syntax,
graduation.
There are many things to pay for
Many things to pay for
Many things to pay for
Much for money to buy,
But who can pay?
There is a subtle obsolescence
to which the school does not react,
Their child—he knows each fact,
but the answer-book is wrong.
II. Manhood
See the child?
He is God’s.
With all his sin, and pride, and near-sightedness, and guilt,
He is God’s.
He rarely prays;
He does not know what angels say – he does not care –
Would not believe.
The politicians sing. That is enough. They say it all.
There are many voices crying,
Many voices crying,
Many voices crying,
There are many voices taunting,
“Is God there?”
Hear the slow and rising roll of history?
Its force is breaking on the shore.
God’s child – he is only man, no more.
But he does not know that God is there.
IV. Life
See the child?
We all can claim Him.
With the light of glory on Him, with the burden of the cross,
We all can claim Him!
He is looking,
Looking for the lost ones – the ones who do not know
there are not home;
the evil ones, the crying ones, the anxious, fearful lost.
There are many who do not see Him
Many who can not hear Him
Many who can not hear Him,
Many who do not care.
But He has numbered every hair.
Through the murmuring, uneasy shifting
come the child’s redeeming story –
Glory, Glory, Glory, Glory,
Glory! is the fate of earth!
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