A poem is a meeting-starter

How Poetry Shakes Up the National Desk’s Morning Meetings by Marc Lacey of the New York Times. 

When the National desk gets together to discuss stories, it can be a grim half-hour. We dissect natural disasters. We reconstruct mass shootings. We delve into political scandals and all manner of domestic tumult. Recently, though, we added a new feature to our morning meetings aimed at inspiring us and boosting our creativity before we embark on another long day of editing the news. 

We read a poem.

I don't have morning meetings today, but I treated myself to poetry, anyway. It's a poem written by my dear Kuya John D. called "Bundeena" in 2019.  

The southern beaches are quiet
Their shores unruffled
The sea breeze is thick with the muffled sound
Of the scattered rippling of waves
And the chirping of birds
Of random unfamiliar muted chatters in Mandarin and French
And the solid staccatic barking of the moneyed's white boat engines --
I did a little bushwalking, too
Passing thru 2000 year-old aboriginal arts engraved in stones
Finally stopping by Jibbon Beach
Laid down my handwoven mat
Pressed my left ear to the ground
As I slowly walked my fingers to the sand
Holding a pinch and forming circles
Until the crystals fall off
Shifting my head to the sky
Squinting my left eye
Followed by the closing of the right
The vastness of the curved blue sky
Consumed by the pitch blackness
Of a quiet sleep

By the beach.

The nearest beach (the peaceful coasts of Sarangani and General Santos) is at least an hour away from Marbel. I think of beaches as places to nap.