Jeane C. Peracullo, 2011

I wrote this little ode to the church ruins in Camiguin Island back in 2011. It was my first visit to the island in particular and the Mindanao region in general.

Two volcanoes loom over stone columns

Those are the remains of a once-proud church

That crumbled down in 1871.

The rumblings rang in the ears of the frightened people.

The sound much louder than the peals of its bells

Which, in its special tower, announced the eruption of a volcano.

The volcano spawn and thrown red-hot rocks

Some hit the majestic church

And in a short while

The church crumbled into pieces

And soon after, spent by its violent wracking,

Quieted down to sleep for two centuries.

The two columns stood witness to the majesty of the once-proud church.

I entered the church ruins reverently as I would a cathedral.

The stone columns stand as a grim reminder of the island’s violent past

They are a constant testament to the danger of living

Under the looming presence of the volcanoes that surround the island.

Inside was a clearing. There was a Zen-like feel to it.

The church ruins surrounded the clearing, which was green with lush grass.

The whole atmosphere was almost peaceful.

The sound of the crashing waves from the nearby sea

Added to its other-worldly serenity.

Glancing up, my gaze encountered a volcano, which was now dormant

Sleeping, but not dead yet.

And another volcano demanded my attention.

The same one that erupted more than 600 years ago

Now asleep, but active.

And would wake up again sometime in the future.

Meanwhile, it was taking its own sweet time

Looming over the ruins of a once-proud, majestic church.