Naturalism - the Eighth Sense
Wednesday, March 25, 2026
Natural Science Books for Children (and Grownups, too) (Article in Progress)
Tuesday, March 24, 2026
The Fine Edge of Awareness Part 1: To Baby Mackie* and Her Generation
Monday, March 23, 2026
"Ten-ten-ten" - the dog that found a home
Ten-ten-ten - the dog that found a home

Saturday, March 21, 2026
My Life's Rhapsody (In celebration of World Poetry Day, March 21, 2026)
My Life's Rhapsody*
As tempest blows a flower's whisper,Love receives a curious wonder,For when we tend to cross the mystery's sea,We can always return to our house of ease.As birds sing and flowers begin to bloom,The stars shine and say "See you soon"And as blades of grass continue to grow,We need not much of the sorrow.For thru the stars, sky and mountain peak,We will always find the home we belong and seek,This might sound like a narrationBut I assure you, this is just a lyrical affiliation.But even as dramatic it may seem,It wouldn't hurt to ever believe,That no matter where we tread,There will always be an invisible thread,And thru that thread connects our very hearts,Until the time our days go dark.For when the thread ever twines,Our friends and family will stick by our side.So don't fret, fear, or woe,For there will always be tomorrow.And if you ever question your life's worth/esteem,I only need to say one word: BelieveSo remember the teachings of those you hold dear,Because you never know when they will disappear.And as I finish this symphonical tune,I would say, Merci et bonjour. ~
* Subject in English 7, VII-OLCD St Paul College of Ilocos Sur. (SPCIS)
Rhapsody: 1. an effusively enthusiastic or ecstatic expression of feeling. "rhapsodies of praise" 2. (in ancient Greece) an epic poem, or part of it, of a suitable length for recitation at one time.
Wednesday, March 18, 2026
Reflections 3
Reflections 3
Dr Abe V Rotor
1. Reflection by a Waterfall
Reflection by a Waterfall
Reflect not my folly and greed,Never Narcissus of old;Of the deities on his shoulder,Of youth never growing old.
Reflect not of the future gloom,Of Heaven denied and lost,Lost pristine and the butterflies,And of the Malthusian ghost.
Death is an empty shell I seeLying in the murky depth,And a lone deer in memoryShall man someday pay his debt.
The Good Life, oh we always say,Is progress and destiny,Taming both time and spaceTo create our sense of beauty.
Narcissus, what lesson have youTaught mankind since you fell in?Oh, beauty, the land of the doomed,Where lust is the greatest sin. ~
2. I love the rainbow
I love the rainbow
because it holds a pot of goldthat glitters in kaleidoscope,and prism on its huge crown,where lovely deities play I'm told;
it's reborn when worn and oldinto a cathedral in the skycherubim sweetly sing in praise,humbling the proud and bold;
it guides the lost from the foldand those searching for heaven -a rainbow suddenly appearswhenever faith grows cold. ~
" I am dying, dear mother, I long for you and my kin;I choke with debris, laden with waste matter,my banks are no more, concrete walls have taken over;I am dying mother - but my mother doesn't answer;my mother doesn't answer." - avr
The afternoon sun casts an aura of the creek's once beautiful state with trees and shrubs lining its banks. Now the creek is virtually dead - biologically. Note highly polluted water and dumped quarry materials blocking the natural waterway. (Parallel Aurora Blvd, QC)
.
Dirge of a Dying Creek
Once upon a time, so the story goes, clouds gather
from the sea and land, cumulus to nimbus,
falling as rain, drenching the trees and grass and all,
and down the lake and river and field it goes.
I was born this way, like my kin, many miles away,
children of Pasig River, seat of a civilization,
the artery of vast Laguna Lake and historic Manila Bay,
and I, a tributary of this magnificent creation.
I lived in the stories of Balagtas the poet laureate,
in Rizal's novels, Abelardo's Kundiman song,
I throbbed with the happy heart of a living system,
like the Rhine, Danube, Nile and Mekong.
I am part of history, obedient to man and nature's will,
I gave him clean water and fish, I sang lullaby;
laughed with the children at play under my care,
through generations and time sweetly went by.
Seasons come and go, the story goes on - ad infinitum -
but where are the birds that herald habagat?
where have all the children gone after class, in summer?
reflection on my water, green carpet on my rock?
I am dying, dear mother, I long for you and my kin,
I choke with debris, laden with waste matter,
my banks are no more, concrete walls have taken over,
I am dying mother - but my mother doesn't answer;
my mother doesn't answer.~
The Reasons I Write and the Books I Have Written
Part 1 - The reasons I write
My friends would exclaim and even if they don’t, I could read their eyes. “Why you are still alive!” And I would return a wide grim. And we rejoice. There are many things in this world to be happy about and rejoice.
Twenty-two years ago today I was dying in a hospital. After two major operations, I left everything to Providence. I was supposed to deliver a response being an author of a book published by UST, Light from the Old Arch. My daughter Anna stood before the audience on that occasion and gave the response on my behalf. It could not have been any better if I did. She is a brave daughter, and I believed she was guided by the Light I saw and wrote about – Light from the Old Arch.
And so, since that day and everyday thereafter I would rise before the sun does, and write my thoughts in the creeping light of dawn. Thoughts come beautifully in the morning of a new day, which I simply call a “bonus” – a term I couldn’t define, much less understand. Every morning is a beautiful morning, and there is nothing more beautiful than it because it is a bonus of an extended life. It is an extension of a breathing, thinking and feeling soul. Above all it is a bonus of thanksgiving.
It was only then that I began to understand who and what is a writer, but why should one write remained elusive, beyond my understanding. I have read about Scheherazade the story teller of "a thousand and one nights," I have read a part of the book Walden Pond of Henry David Thoreau who wrote it far away from society. Or the Brownings in their exchange of romantic feelings in classical poetry. How powerful are the themes of Ernest Hemingway, and I did not expect how his life was ended had I not read what Van Gogh did when he had painted everything, except death. Hellen Keller wrote in the light of darkness because she was blind. So with John Milton who wrote Paradise Lost, and later Paradise Regained when he was already blind. How could Rachel Carson had written if she didn’t see Nature like a woman being raped and trampled?
Before I simply wrote. I looked on all sides for what every event or action there was. Until I saw a dim light coming from the window of an old house. I traced it. It was far and dim yet penetrating in the mist of time, and obscured by the passing views of change.
But it is almost magic. It’s a miracle, if I would say so, because I am still alive today. Thought after thought, page after page, chapter after chapter I was able to write a book, and another. And another that my alma mater, and the UST Publishing House are launching with other new books.

I write because I believe in Robert Ruark’s Something of Value . He said
“If a man does away with his traditional way of living and throws away his good customs, he had better first make certain that he has something of value to replace them.”
· I write because I believe in Lola Basiang relating folklore to children. We imagine a campfire, around it our ancestors exchanged knowledge and recounted experiences, with spices of imagination and superstition. It was a prototype open university. Throughout the ages and countless generations a wealth of native knowledge and folk wisdom accumulated but not much of it has survived.
. I write because I believe in Homer’s epics, the Iliad and the Odyssey, which in the same way as Aesop’s fables, survived after two or three thousand years.
Homer and His Guide, by William-Adolphe Bouguereau (1825–1905), portraying Homer on Mount Ida, beset by dogs and guided by the goatherder Glaucus (as told in Pseudo-Herodotus)
· I write because I would not look farther than the timelessness of Christ lessons in parables? The Sermon on the Mount, The Prodigal Son, the Sower, The Good Samaritan - these and many more, continue to live in the home, school, pulpit as it had persisted in the catacombs in the beginnings of Christianity.
· I write because Homer, Socrates, Aesop, Buddha, Christ and other early authors did not write. I am the lesser teacher so that I will enshrine the teachings of these great teachers. I am aware that it is through oral history, in spite of its limitations and informal nature that these masterpieces were preserved and transcended to us - thanks to our ancestors, and to tradition itself.
· I write because I am one of those who inherited and benefit today of the valuable basic scientific knowledge such as the Pythagorean Theorem (all philosophies are resolved into the relations of numbers), the Law of Buoyancy from Archimedes, the Ptolemaic concept of the universe (although it was later corrected with the Copernican model), Natural Philosophy of Aristotle (Natural History), not to mention the Hippocratic Oath, the ethics that guide those in the practice of medicine which our modern doctors adhere to this day.
· I write about Tradition and Heritage. Just as the Egyptians, Greeks, Romans – and even the remote and lesser ancient civilizations like the Aztecs and the Mayas had their own cultural heritage, so have we in our humble ways. Panday Pira attests to early warfare technology, the Code of Kalantiao, an early codification of law and order, the Herbolario, who to the present is looked upon with authority as the village doctor. And of course, we should not fail to mention the greatest manifestation of our architectural genius and grandiose aesthetic sense – the Banawe Rice Terraces. (photo)
. I write for adventure because I was a boy once upon a time, and the Little Prince in me refuses to grow old. On my part, like other boys in my time, boyhood could not have been spent in any better way without the science fictions of Jules Vernes – Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, Eighty Days Around the World – and the adventures of Mark Twain’s Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn. It is the universality of human thoughts and values that is the key to the timelessness of tradition – indeed the classical test of true masterpieces.
· I write about children’s stories. I can only wonder with awe at the determination of the Grimm Brothers roaming the villages of Europe soon after the Dark Ages began to end, and the light of learning began to dawn again, the two scholars retrieving the fragments and remnants of stories surviving the darkest period of history of mankind. And what do we know? These stories, together with the stories from the 1001 Arabian Nights, and Hans Christian Anderson have kept the flame of human hope and joy alive in cradles, around the hearth, at the bedside – even as the world was uncertain and unkind.
. I write because I often ask myself if it is only truth that can withstand the test of time. Or, if only events that really happened constitute history. And if there were any tinge that these stories were based on the culture of a people in their own time, would we not find them, we who live on the other side of the globe and in another time?
· I write to explore and retrieve traditional knowledge from records of the past, archaeology, and testimonies of old folks. It is indeed an enormous task not only what but how we can gather the fragments of knowledge, distinguish facts from myths, reality from imagination, and draw out the threads of wisdom and weave them into a fabric we call science. Today with modern science and technology, we create virtual reality scenarios on the screen and in dioramas, reliving the past and deliver them right in the living room and in the school.
· I write to rediscover indigenous knowledge and folk wisdom which enlarges and enhances our history and tradition. Even beliefs and practices, which we may not be able to explain scientifically, can be potential materials for research. And if in our judgment they fail to meet such test, still they are valuable to us because they are part of our culture and they contribute immensely to the quaintness of living.
· I write because I am inspired by the beautiful novel Swiss Family Robinson written by Johann Wyss nearly two centuries ago. It is about a family stranded in an unknown island somewhere near New Guinea and during the many years they lived in the island, they learned to adapt to a life entirely disconnected from society and devoid of the amenities of modern living. When finally they were rescued, the family chose to stay in the island – except one son who wanted to study, promising that he would return to the island.
· I write because of similar stories of the same plot such as Robinson Crusoe, a classic novel by Daniel Defoe, and recently, Castaway, a modern version of a lone survivor shown on the screen. We can only imagine what we could have done if we were the survivors ourselves.
· I write to challenge the young generation if such stories have lost their appeal, more so of their relevance. It is as if we have outlived tradition in such a manner that anything which is not modern does not apply any longer. What aggravates it is that as we move in to cities we lose our home base and leave behind much of our native culture.
· I write because I hope to help hold the tide of exodus of people moving into cities, whether in ones own country or abroad, and the lure is so great nearly half of the world’s population is now living in urban centers. Ironically the present population explosion is not being absorbed by the rural areas but by cities, bloating them into megapolises where millions of people as precariously ensconced. And now globalization is bringing us all to one village linked in cyberspace and shrunk in distance by modern transportation. We have indeed entered the age of global homogenization and worldwide acculturation.
· I write to take a good look and compare ourselves with our ancestors from the viewpoint of how life is well lived. Were our ancestors a happier lot? Did they have more time for themselves and their family, and more things to share with their community? Did they live healthier lives? Were they endowed - more than we are - with the good life brought about by the bounty and beauty of nature?
· I write to raise these questions that analyze ten major concerns about living. In the midst of socio-cultural and economic transformation from traditional to modern to globalization - an experience that is sweeping all over the world today - these concerns serve as parameters to know how well we are living with life.
· I write to raise the consciousness of the reader as he goes over the various topics in this book and help him relate these with his own knowledge and experiences, and they way he lives.
· Simple lifestyle
· Environment-friendly
· Peace of mind
· Functional literacy
· Good health and longer active life
· Family and community commitment
· Self-managed time
· Self-employment
· Cooperation (bayanihan) and unity
· Sustainable development
· Twenty-two years ago I began to gather and put into writing many things about living. Primarily these are ethnic or indigenous, and certainly there are commonalities with those in other countries, particularly in Asia, albeit of their local versions and adaptations. It leads us to appreciate with wonder the vast richness of cultures shared between and among peoples and countries even in very early times. Ironically modern times have overshadowed tradition, and many of these beliefs and practices have been either lost or forgotten, and even those that have survived are facing endangerment and the possibility of extinction. It is a rare opportunity and privilege to gather and analyze traditional beliefs and practices.
I write for the old folks to whom we owe much gratitude and respect because they are our living link with the past. They are the Homer of Iliad and Odyssey of our times, so to speak. They are the Disciples of Christ’s parables, the Fabulists of Aesop. They are the likes of a certain Ilocano farmer by the name of Juan Magana who recited Biag ni Lam-ang from memory, Mang Vicente Cruz, an herbolario of Bolinao Pangasinan, whom I interviewed about the effectiveness of herbal medicine. It is to people who, in spite of genetic engineering, would still prefer the taste of native chicken and upland rice varieties. It is to these people, and to you in this hall, that this little piece of work is sincerely dedicated.
I would like to read the excerpts of the writings of the critics about my new book.
“Very common people, in very common settings, with very simple objects, now tell us how to keep in touch with nature. For instance we rejoice in the bounty of leafy vegetables growing on discarded tires, sustained with compost from a city dump. We also find relief from a burning fever through a cup of lagundi tea, or savor broiled catfish fattened at a backyard pond. Sometimes, we painfully ponder the fate of a dog headed for slaughter, or grieve at the gnarled skeleton of a dead tree, or awe in at the metamorphosis of a cicada, or immersed in the lilting laughter of children at play.”
Four great Filipinos are acclaimed vanguards of Philippine Literature. The cover of the book, conceptualized and made by artist Leo Carlo R Rotor, depicts the theme of the book - travelogue in literature with these heroes. Jose Rizal on politico-socio-cultural subjects, including ecological, Rizal being an environmentalist while in exile in Dapitan, Misamis Oriental, Mindanao; Francisco Baltazar or Balagtas on drama and performing arts in general, fiction novels and plays, evolving into stage show and cinema; Severino Reyes or Lola Basyang on mythology, children’s stories, komiks, and a wealth of cartoons and other animations and Leona Florentino, the Philippines’ Elizabeth Browning, Ella Wilcox, Emily Bronte et al, epitomize the enduring classical literature.

"What makes this poetry collection specially significant is its ecological slant which gives it an added dimension rarely attributed to other poetry collections. xxx to “get out of the house” and bond with nature. It is a departure from the usual stale air of solitariness and narcissism which permeates most poetry today. Every poem indeed becomes a “flower in disguise” using the poet’s own words." (Excerpt from the Foreword by the late Ophelia A. Dimalanta, Ph.D. Director, Center for Creative Writing and Studies, UST).
A coffee table book, full color, published by Megabooks in 1995. It was dedicated and presented to the Holy Father, John Paul II, on his visit to the Philippines by the late Jaime Cardinal Sin, Sister Teresita Bayona SPC, and Fr. James B Reuter, SJ.
A collection of 18 essays about life and living, 216 pages. Published by UST in 2000 with the Preface written by Fr. Jose Antonio Aureada, regent of the Graduate School.
"After reading Light of Dawn,
How can I live without poetry and art?
From the love that I shall find,
Shall not my heart depart."



Part 1 – Community Life - Realities and Challenges
Part 2 – Understanding Nature, the Great Teacher
Part 3 – Keeping an Environment-Friendly Relationship
Part 4 – Nature – Great Provider of The Good Life
Part 5 – Conservation of Natural Resources
Part 6 - Nature and Humanities
Supplemental Articles (Fillers)
Number of Pages - 286
- Farm Marketing in Asia and the Pacific, Asian Productivity Organization Tokyo Contributor and book editor, 1992
- Our Generous Fragile Earth. Mimeographed 1991
- Economic Entomology Manual, De La Salle University (Araneta) 1965
- Plant Morphology and Physiology, De La Salle University (Araneta) 1965
- Farmers' Digest (publisher and editor 1963-66)











