come, stay and let's talk. it's a good day to be alive
I am frustrated to have found myself in a confusion again.
I knew where I was headed.
I knew I did my best then.
but given the place I’ve found myself embedded,
I wonder if I had digressed too much.
I wonder if it is the same North Star that guides me up there.
but what use is it to foresee the future and such
when the fire is raging here everywhere.
I keep my head low
and listen for a wisdom hidden in river flow.
6.14.2022
perhaps you call this a perfect timing
the sun rose through the clouds
gracefully laying sunshine on greeneries
cool wind shuffled by
small fjor of water slowly flowed
blue bell flowers bowed like nuns in covenant
peonies gleamed like happy hippos
blue sky smiled gracefully
I wondered if I was dreaming
everything looked perfect as they were
5.12.2022
it was under the hot scorching summer sun
I rowed my kayak through the middle of river
wide as suburban shopping mall
although I couldn’t tell whether it flowed
I rowed and rowed, belching out youthful songs
river kept revealing more and more of itself
until I reached the mouth of a city
and dragged out my kayak into concrete
I remember the river that gave itself to me
4.28.2022
I walked along the lake of emerald color
out of a jungle of tall grey cement buildings
on street so long that seemed to have no end
but I finally arrived at a flat aquarium
passing by taxidermy of mammoths
that reminded me of American beef
hamburgers I had beforehand
to the plastic wall of pool of emerald color
where white beluga whales swam solemnly
I remember the whales
because I was expecting giant blue whales instead
4.24.2022
4.24.2022
stranded alone in a dark river,
the moon, pinned high above,
only solaces the ant’s waiting
and hopes for a new beginning.
the ant stretches its six legs
grasping onto ephemeral reflection
of the moon on dark river,
its every breath to save the moon.
standing alone in the dark river
I stare at the ant, whispering words
perhaps as a prayer of some sort.
10.27.2021
This river, in particular,
does not overflow, spilling its guts
onto the sidewalk for pedestrians to walk.
These invisible gangs of droplets, all crumble into
this narrow valley of single destination in an instant.
Ever-so permanent, yet ever-so changing,
the river continues to flow at the same height.
Fast and frivolous, slow and serious,
purely clear, and muddily thick ones
all sang a song that flashed an instant,
then disappeared from the pedestrian’s iris,
burning its imagery into the memory.
9.25.2020
Ralph with Coffee 