Once More, the Minister

This time opportunity comes as a streak of light, thin and almost always
Prepared to fade, shining on less things visible, more things imagined,
And things we once had but have forgotten and now up for recovery.
This is made obvious, today, by the enormous dry season canopy
Of rows and rows of old trees, allowing only a few, through daggers
Of sunlight, the fortune to glow: the graceful gathering of dust,
Slow talk on justice, and long undisturbed stares to a misdemeanour-
Riddled past. In this position, reach is only the venerable response
To the endless lengths of recollection. How we try and how we fail
And how we never really learn: reaching, bound by what we can remember,
Recovering what we cannot, as they slowly lose light, drown,
And be one with the dark.

-- E.J. Galang