come, stay and let's talk. it's a good day to be alive
this fleeting moment
nothing is permanent
rather than what’s visible
it’s the invisible that lasts longer.
for example:
the soft warmth wrapped by lazy summer sunset
the silky softness summer breeze carries
the quiet steadiness a resolved heart feels.
do not cry;
rather smile.
remember to keep your playful heart
without looking away from the lions.
5.17.2023
addicted to the noises,
I let my vision blurred.
I said a few words
and slip – there it goes –
slick needle of painful words.
wondrous damage it does
pity the numbed
grief overwhelms.
5.16.2023
as if to ravish all that is free
a whirlwind of thoughts
craves for a cheap thrill.
to be free of it at all
a slow gradual plan is called for.
the source of the vacuum is
lack of joy, friendship, and purpose.
to find them:
run towards what you are afraid of.
let go of selfishness.
and do what feels the most right thing to do.
it’s rather short, this life.
worry less of dollar games.
worry more of human touches.
offer your best effort to the world.
sing a song of childhood when you feel down.
you are remembered.
but also you won’t be remembered.
may your world be
filled with warmth and softness
in times of the light
in times of the dark.
5.15.2023
when we are close
in silence
you know
and I know
what we are thinking.
to note each body language
requires too many words;
rather, it’s ‘je ne sais quoi.’
no words needed;
yet your soul
and my soul
were warm
for albeit a brief moment.
farewell.
may your path illuminate in darkness.
5.14.2023
no words are needed
for those who know
for those who act
for those who believe.
no emotion, persuasion
exceeds the experience itself.
5.13.2023
I remember the four seasons in that house.
in the summer, I can see the dark blue sky
through a sun window tilted diagonally.
I’d lay on the bed, reading William Matthews.
in the fall, I can pick a dried brown leaf
of a chestnut tree & make a wish
for a magical season to begin.
in the winter, I can see the back yard,
now piling up with thick, soft snow,
through kitchen window
as I wash bowls that had dumpling soups.
in the spring, I would stare at sunset,
glistening in a silent glorious opera
through budding green tree leaves
as I finish packing boxes.
the squeaking sound of wooden floors,
the table of vynil record player,
and the bottle of wine.
I remember the scent of the moment.
5.12.2023
I vividly recall
I was visiting a house
next to the house
I had loved so much.
wooden walls surrounded
a small back yard,
a hammock between old grand trees
and a wooden table in the middle.
soft breeze blew
Glistening sunlight trickled
through diamonds of tree leaves.
even though this was a dream
from my memory almost 10 years ago,
I am delighted it is with me now
for it was one of the happiest moment
I had lived.
5.11.2023
I’ve begun to suspect
anything that feels easy.
It’s when you feel relaxed
that you start degrading.
what you feel
may not capture your aptitude.
but, for now, let us rest
at the face of merciless illness
rest is the best fortitude.
5.10.2023
will it as you would hold a silk towel
be fierce in each step
yet flow as amorphous
be loud and clear
but soft as honey
if you wish it so dearly
let go of your fists.
it will come
as it stays in your mind
as you live each waking moment.
5.9.2023
perhaps now is the time.
I feel pain in the head
and the heart feels rather numb.
I no longer feel the excitement
when I win a match;
only vainglory remains.
but this is a murky ground.
your friends, colleagues, and mentors
holds on to you.
to say no to all of that
and to take a leap
takes a fiery courage
to walk a blazing trail.
let us hold our head high.
let us prevail.
5.8.2023
Ralph with Coffee 
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