Renato Gandia

Tide-Lit Reckonings

Dawn breaks in a gasp—
the shore exhales salt, counting rosaries of foam.

In Anilao, water confesses,
immersing divers in coral cathedrals collapsing to sand.
Parrotfish gnaw stone into silence,
each bite a century falling.

Nasugbu presses cliffs into tide—
wooden bancas creak with ancestral marrow.
Men thread nets with prayer in their fingers,
their bodies remembering what history refused to write.

Laiya blazes white.
Children fling themselves at surf,
laughter blistering in the noon fire.
Vendors haunt the edges—
fingers brined with dried squid,
ice collapsing like old promises in thin plastic cups.

Taal burns quiet into glass.
Beneath, the volcano’s heart thrums—
a drum no one can silence.
Tawilis glitter and vanish,
coins of memory paid to the depths.
A fisherman lifts his net,Ti
and time itself pours through his hands.

But water remembers wounds.
Plastic clots the tide,
oil spreads its counterfeit rainbows.
Typhoons splinter hulls,
homes collapse like paper lanterns in a storm.

Still, people return:
to piece, to cast, to plunge.
To trust again in a sea that forgets nothing.

Evening loosens its grip.
Anilao mirrors dusk.
Nasugbu’s edges glow low, ember-thin.
Laiya fades, footprints evaporating into dark.
On Taal, the volcano exhales—
its shadow inscribed on the lake.

These waters carry gospel and ash:
children’s laughter,
roofs ripped from their moorings,
prayers sinking like anchors.

Here is the reckoning:
life tastes of salt.
When breath ends, the tide gathers us—
restless, maternal, merciless—
and does not let go.

Selection of published poems

A Dash of Paranoia – The Remnants We Keep by POV

Rancid Heart – The Remnants We Keep by POV

Longings in Yellow and Gold – Chinook Poetry Contest 2025 by The Confluence Calgary

Santacruzan: Where We Wear Our History – Salingpusa.com