"Sometimes I would think that good things get lost for many reasons. It makes us appreciate goodness, to recognize our need for improvement, to remind us that when we start feeling comfortable of what we have He gives us a nudge and tells us there is more to life left unattained, that the word permanent would not even exist if there were no such things as temporary. It makes us treasure people and things more. It also makes us realize that these things of the world can never go beyond their very purpose. We have to live each and every single one of them at the very moment of their conception. There's really no saving them for future references.

Carpe diem. Past is nothing more but a reference point after checking your destination in the future as you move along in the present moment. We are bounded to move on. In status viae."


- from cora from reynor

on turtle's wings i fly

searching

curious like an indigo child

learning

striving

like a shaman

vast oceans to sail

universe wide to spread

these wings

spanning greater

the peakest of mountains

climbing high up

indeed, its a wonder

despite, here in my nest

safe and sound


i'd like to fly...

and i'll never take my eyes off the sky!

" No man was ever yet a great poet, without being at the same time a profound philosopher. For poetry is the blossom and the fragrance of all human knowledge,human thoughts, human passions, emotions, language. "

- Samuel Taylor Coleridge

grazie mille to
the turtle, the shaman and the indigo
and the stimulation of life
and life's ironies

i rediscovered
the magic of telling
by lines and verses...

i wish i can call myself
a poet someday...

for now, i continue
my scribbles...

A Tranquil Night

Before my bed a pool of light -
Can it be hoarfrost on the ground?
Looking up, I find the moon bright;
Bowing, in homesickness I'm drowned.


In the Quiet Night

So bright a gleam on the foot of my bed –
Could there have been a frost already?
Lifting myself to look, I found that it was moonlight.
Sinking back again, I thought suddenly of home.


- LI BAI or LI PO



Spring Morning

This spring morning in bed I'm lying,
Not to awake till birds are crying.
After one night of wind and showers,
How many are the fallen flowers?


A Spring Morning

I awake light-hearted this morning of spring,
Everywhere round me the singing of birds –
But now I remember the night, the storm,
And I wonder how many blossoms were broken.


- MENG HAORAN

both from the TANG DYNASTY
(courtesy of HanMei, my friend from Hubei)