giving birth to another world.

They all walk searching for what

they know not, and they stride

over dead bodies, pass by 

ruined houses, bump unto men,

swathed in mud and wounds,

wandering in wobbly knees.

The way sets unclear directions--

a maze of all fallen and fragmented. 

The trees, skeletons of branches.

The sky, a whole blank sheet.

Still they move on and in all

This walking dawns their waking.

This line's most apparent characteristic is its extreme, hyperbolized wording, which effectively gives life (ironically) to the topic matter. The situation of the typhoon Haiyan survivors is so desolate that it warrants being labelled as a byproduct of something as abstract and philosophical as "death."

This line instills a humanity into the receiver of the action (the "other world" in question). The line adds a fantastic component to the sight that awaits the typhoon's survivors,  implying that the reality of their surroundings is something so unfathomably terrible to such a point that it is akin to something entirely out of this world.

Being "swathed" is also often spoken of when one is strapped with or bound in bandages, an item used for its restorative properties. Thus, to say that one is swathed in "wounds" is a contradiction of this putative impression and also lends to the motif of confusion that is prevalent in the text.

To know the way usually entails a sense of direction and a clarity of mind. That the way that has been lain for typhoon Haiyan's survivors only further blurs their perception and the plans they have loosely set for themselves emphasizes the severity of their current situation. It also contributes much to the text's themes of confusion and chaos.

Being "swathed" is a characteristic often attributed to infant children, especially those wrapped in swaddling clothes. This imagery helps readers construct a well-formed image of the men who have been plunged into a pit of almost inhuman physical exertion and suffering, also providing them with a gateway into learning about the many illnesses and injuries typhoon victims are liable to incur.

Esperas' description of the way ahead as a "maze of all fallen and fragmented" has a clear metaphorical undertone because it implies that the typhoon's victims have nothing to cling to except the shadows of the structures and lifestyles they had once become so deeply acquainted with. All that stands before them is a practically unnavigable hodgepodge literally of the debris left by the typhoon and figuratively of the despair and isolation brought about by their bid to challenge the odds and stay alive.

Before ending, Esperas presents readers with a clincher that drives home the poem's dreary and pessimistic mood. It also ties into the previous lines ("The way sets unclear directions--a maze of all fallen and fragmented") and fuels the idea of losing what one once had and making something out of all that is now "fallen;" the lush trees are now mere outlines of their former glory and the sky does not have any clouds in which the people can seek comfort. The road ahead is completely bleak and there is no course of action in sight for typhoon Haiyan's survivors.

Two metaphors can be derived from this line.

The "walking" being described in this line is not exactly a reflection of the action of walking that the characters in the poem have been carrying out, but is instead a metaphor for the historical and cyclical pattern of adversity and destitution that Filipinos have had to wrestle with ever since colonial times.

"Waking" on the other hand is a metaphor for the attainment of the hope that Filipinos have clung onto ever since they were introduced to pain. Quite literally, it is the fuel that singlehandedly enables Filipinos to fight. Esperas' description of it in this text gives it the opportunity to appeal directly to the typhoon's victims, telling them that though suffering and hardship are part and parcel of their daily life, they can one day rise from these if "[s]till they move on."

Here, we see that beyond acting as a diorama of pain and agony, the poem also serves as a reflection of hope. Before it was taken out of proportion and reduced into the harmful narrative that it is today, "resiliency" was in fact one of the Filipino's insurmountable characteristics. They have collected this sense of resiliency from the many values that are ubiquitous in the national imagination: religion, filial loyalty, togetherness and comradeship, and more. Though the path ahead is bleak, Filipinos cling onto these to safeguard their longevity and to weather any calamity that may beset them. These are what enable to them to "move on," to walk the path of dead bodies, gray skies and ruined trees, under one hope of one day "waking" to the fruition of all they had lost in the past, and everything they have worked for in the present.

In this respect, the poem is also able to touch those whom the typhoon has not directly affected, not only to rouse them to step outside of their shells of complacency and to make efforts to help those stricken by disaster, but also to hopefully provide them with a sense of direction in a time when it has been rendered more a dwindling resource than a human privilege.

Although this poem zeroes in on the tribulations of a typhoon survivor, we mustn't let that which underlies this suffering in the first place slip out of the public eye. If we had good governance and democratic policy-making measures, nobody would have to "walk" and endure this culture of injustice that is endemic to our nation. If there is one thing that this poem must impart to its readers about the world, it is that suffering, violence, and famine are part and parcel of a government that traps its people in the pangs of populism to fool them into thinking that all is well and good.