The title of this article of mine means the return of something terrible after a time of reprieve. Similarly, the word also refers to the recurrence of an undesirable condition, such as a disease, after a period of improvement or inactivity. Essentially, it means that something negative, which had previously subsided, has returned.
I hope that this coming election, we do not resort to “recrudescence” vis-à-vis the candidates that we are going to vote for. Let us not allow these terrible personalities to return to and/or continue their incumbency via our sacred and precious votes, most especially if we know for a fact how undeserving and unworthy they are to be reelected.
Here is a poem bearing the same title of this article:
In the quiet before the storm,
A whisper of change stirs the air.
The streets, once silent, now hum
With the pulse of anticipation.
Old promises, like faded posters,
Peel away to reveal
The raw, unhealed wounds beneath.
Hope, once dormant, awakens,
Its eyes wide with the memory
Of battles fought and dreams deferred.
The ballot box, a crucible,
Where the past and future collide,
Where voices long silenced
Find their echo in the clamor
Of a new dawn.
In the heart of a locality,
The people gather,
Their footsteps a drumbeat
Of collective will.
Each vote a spark,
Igniting the flame of possibility.
Recrudescence, a return, a resurgence,
Not of despair, but of resolve.
For in the cycle of seasons,
Spring always follows winter,
And the seeds of change,
Once sown, will bloom again.
PAGBABALIK
Sa katahimikan bago ang bagyo,
May bulong ng pagbabago sa hangin.
Ang mga kalye, dati'y tahimik, ngayo'y humuhuni
Sa tibok ng pag-asa.
Mga lumang pangako,
tulad ng mga kupas na poster,
Unti-unting nawawala upang ipamalas
Ang mga sugat na hindi pa naghihilom.
Ang pag-asa, na minsang nahimlay, ay nagising,
Ang mga mata'y malawak sa alaala
Ng mga laban na nilabanan at mga pangarap na naantala.
Ang kahon ng balota, isang sisidlan,
Kung saan nagtatagpo ang nakaraan at hinaharap,
Kung saan ang mga tinig na matagal nang tahimik
Ay nakahahanap ng kanilang alingawngaw
Sa tinig ng isang bagong umaga.
Sa puso ng pook,
Nagtipon ang mga tao,
Ang kanilang mga hakbang ay isang pagyanig
Ng sama-samang kalooban.
Bawat boto ay isang ningning,
Nagpapaningas ng apoy ng pananalig.
Pagbabalik, Isang pagbabalik, isang muling pagbangon,
Hindi ng kawalan ng pag-asa, kundi ng determinasyon.
Sapagkat sa siklo ng mga panahon,
Ang tagsibol ay laging sumusunod sa taglamig,
At ang mga binhi ng pagbabago,
Kapag naitanim, ay muling mamumulaklak.