Withstand

I start to see that when you endure,
all the challenges will become your strengths.
if you run away,
they will haunt you for the remaining days.
some are very scary.
some are deeply hurtful.
so remember that you are not alone.
you must seek company.
and then endure the hardship.
it may not make sense now,
but it will once you’ve overcome it.

10.12.2023

Curiosity

somewhere a flake of white snow fell
it touched upon my heart and melted
I could not tell if it was my heart or the snow
Its curious eyes stared into my soul
I could only reply in bare honesty.
I hope to tell my life story
all of its flaws and meanings
and I want to listen to it
where it came from
and what it has seen.
it would be a good long night
listening to stories.

10.4.2023

Evolution

like an amoeba staring at a bird,
like a dog running after a car,
I chase after a beaten path.

yes, I know I am ashamed
and part of my drive to ignore this shame
moves me when I am the most tired.

a sun shined once, very briefly.
and I learned in that priceless moment
that you must choose to live for yourself.

and the rest of the world will follow.

9.24.2023

Fleeting

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

Memory

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

Spirit

I don’t know what to call it.
Memory? Shadow? Spirit?
One moment you see a person,
the next, you don’t see them.
Your friend, your mom or dad, your teacher,
one moment you see them with your eyes.
the next, you don’t.
So you believe.
You believe they are there with you.
just out of sight,
but they are there with you.
When I walk on the street,
or sit in an empty room,
I feel their presence.
And I remember/sense/imagine:
The way they talk,
the way they gesture,
the way they tell you
that they love you.
it is unmistakable.
I want to tell them:
“I remember all of you”
so I try leaving such tenderness
in the hearts of those dear to me.
As they have done for me.

5.4.2023

Star

it’s a dream, in a way, you know,
no matter what may be going on around you,
you keep staring at the star in the dark night.
in the top floor of a high rise,
through window bars of a basement,
in the middle of cemetery,
or amongst ocean of people at a party,
you keep staring at the star in the dark night.
it’s okay if you lose the ground
it’s okay if the tower falls down.
keep staring at the star
and make a wish upon it from your heart.

4.19.2023

Tears

I wanted to let the tears flow.
I bit the tip of my tongue with my teeth,
yet I did not cry.
then I remembered how unfair it was
that what I know now is unknown to my past
I stared at my youthful, naive self crumbling
as the inevitable lances fell from above
I spoke, out of pain, but no voice let out
instead, thick drops of tears fell down.

4.13.2023