10

Under the Colgante Bridge as night sped

Above us with its million errands, our

Procession of guttering candles and makeshift

Lamps and the weak electronic light of cellphones,

Starting from the Basilica Menore at the other

Side of the City, came to a stop. We were  

A small and frail army of ‘River Warriors’.

 

Now rigid concrete, and not the gangling

Trestle of 1972 when it fell from the weight

Of spectators awaiting the Fluvial Procession

About to pass under it, the new Bridge

Bore the rumble of wheels and haste above us.

As it collapsed on the river, first with a groan

Of cracking wood and shriek of metal, then

With a loud splintering crash and a jumble of old

Timber and neglect, it brought perhaps thousands

With it, with more than a hundred either

Drowned or tansfixed with slivers or shreds

As anti-insurgency-spun rumors fllew

Thick and fast, because perhaps the City was

Being punished for its profligacy, but more for its

Sympathy for the resurgent Communist Party.

 

Before the decade was over, at the height

Of Smiling Martial Law and tortures and

Disappearances swept under the rug, the Crony

Newspapers reporting only the progress

Of the Maharlika Highway and beauty pageants,

The image of the Ina was stolen from its shrine.

It caused great sorrow and waves of superstition

Among citizen, pilgrim, devotee. Near the end

Of the next decade the image was mysteriously

Returned to a member of the CBCP, the bishops’

Conference. As the region reeled under

Typhoon Ruping, thousands braved the raging

Floods and howling winds to meet the motorcade

From Manila bearing the image. Secretly,

The beauteous Imelda had donated a huge

Amount for building a gleaming Basilica where

The recovered image was to be newly enshrined.

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