How do you approach tranquility,
everything is crumbling around you?
Forest and streams are full of resources.
Behind boulders
you will find failures of absolutes.
You will walk in absence of sounds
darkness not filled with hallucinations
“plod on” is a common virtue
stamina of will, be calm,
you are not alone.
When sky closes its windows
you are a frightened soul sobbing into sleep
feel insignificant, tamed and fireless,
drifting into fairytales.
Then you travel and don’t see ghosts
but landscapes and mountains
with indescribable shapes and colors,
walkers singing many songs and stories
the world, a cauldron, sharing a common bond.
Memory sometimes is like a heard conversation
you wonder if it’s real
or like eating watermelon
sweet and mouth-watering.
writing memoir
leapfrogging upwards and downwards
stopping for ice cream
You can start writing a letter
to a lost friend
like stroking the guitar strings
singing a praise or prayer,
like photo-shooting with a stranger
from one street to the next
not knowing if you will have
chicken dumplings or caviar and oysters
You will be all caring
composing a quilt of your past
the present is a daily memoir
how you live, wander and wonder
not tied like a lovely bouquet.
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