I grew up at the skirt of Mayon Volcano,
rising over 8,000 feet
with a perfect, living cone.
At her sight, each morning
was to awaken into awe and wonder.
She breathed a rhythm of life—
Almost every decade
her eruptions would unfold
signaled by earth trembling,
loud thundering,
lava streaming, gliding down her sides.
The land around her flowed with generosity.
Dark, fertile soil nourished fruits,
vegetables, all forms of life.
Creation thrived,
Earth renewing and regenerating.
In time, Mayon’s voice grew more frequent,
her eruptions arriving every few years.
Rivers of lava sought ancient passages,
reclaiming places
where new houses and buildings had risen.
Our elders reminded us:
Mayon holds her own rhythm—
of fire, land, and stone.
We dictate not where she flows.
Remembering Mayon in this Season of Creation,
we are invited to stand in awe
before the marvels around us,
to honor the wisdom that life flourishes in harmony
when we see, hear, and feel again
our interconnectedness, oneness with all.
To know again,
that from the beginning,
all is in the All.
