Heart

a heart that has been through years
of loving, fights, and endured them all
will know when is the right time to move.
we all become a fool in front of an attraction
but a soul that has been through it all
will know what lies ahead.
I pray that I make a wise decision
and proceed with caution.

10.16.2023

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