Seek refuge, wearied soul

Photo by Madeleen Saguid/THE FLAME

Seek refuge, wearied soul

for the times have taken a toll

Your face deserves a gentle kiss

Of the countryside’s breeze


Let the sand immerse your toes

Let it calm your sole

sore from all the chase


Slowly approach the coast

inch by inch until you are soaked

and serene enough to float

and your arms begin to stroke


But when the clouds seem laden,

throwing sabers, groaning loud

hastily run to the surface

and seek refuge on the shore.


The wind may blow,

the currents may hammer your feet,

and what was your heart’s retreat

may bring peril to your peace,










I will understand. 

Do not be enticed by the reach of my arms;

as I only efface the footprints in the sand.


Once you are afar,

bless me with your gaze

but keep yourself held back

while I tame the waves.


I channel my vigor through my soft caress

but so ripples my trouble in distress.

Alone and unaided, the storm will soon cease

But there is no refuge from a turbulent sea. F — Francis Miguell Sta. Rosa

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