There’s No Such Thing As A Natural Disaster

after the North Luzon, Philippines earthquake, July 2022, for T.W.

Rain lashes a zinc roof 

while Nanay is slumped asleep 

like the rice bags lining concrete during monsoon season.


Anak, when my hands give up, 

Bury me under our house

So I will never have to leave Cagayan Valley.

By the grace of God, we will rebuild 

And by the grace of God these hands go up; to separate 

fact from fiction, or the truth from its husk;

because only human failures could turn His art into a disaster.

And life-giving waters become life and death —

when mangroves become concrete and glass 

a storm will take you before your time.


Anak, that’s just the thing

Call landslides natural

But poverty here is not

Say eruption is natural

But our corruption is not


From her mantle, stretch marks ooze cool mud

and that is natural, but we wade through the muck of many many years,

of built-up runoff 

in a broken world system.

There is no such thing as a natural disaster. 

Tomorrow morning the world will wake up and call this “a tragedy”.

Tomorrow morning my hands will go up, and to you, and back up again, while we rebuild the waterlogged pieces of Cagayan Valley.

Tomorrow if you ask me? I don’t pray anymore.


But anak, God gave us voices to sing and to sing is for free so in concert with the birds and the trees my screams will come in waves;

I will sing for some peace, for the spirits that live above and below concrete. 

I will sing let her breathe, this earth, groaning and creaking like your old bones

or aching like a tita’s breast. 

I will sing creation, destruction, resurrection

and a bed of fresh soil

to rest. 


It is my turn to finally rest.

Dianne Aral is a Philippines-born and Singapore-raised writer interested in tender speculation. They've also been a queer nightlife organizer and urban farm worker; you can find their writing in Tiger Moth Review, the Fragmentary Institute of Comparative Timelines, and Literary Hub. Their manuscript-in-progress was selected for the 2023 Singlit Station Manuscript Bootcamp, an incubation program hosted by the literary nonprofit Singlit Station.

Image Source: AP Photo/Harley Palangchao

Dianne Araral

Dianne is Philippines-born and Singapore-raised writer interested in tender speculation. They've also been a queer nightlife organizer and urban farm worker; you can find their writing on Tiger Moth Review, the Fragmentary Institute of Comparative Timelines, and Literary Hub. Their manuscript-in-progress was selected for the 2023 Singlit Station Manuscript Bootcamp, an incubation programme hosted by literary nonprofit Singlit Station.

Previous
Previous

Compost

Next
Next

Wounded Earth