Monday, June 4, 2018

June, I Said Hello to the Sun


When the first wave of summer heat came
in June, I set out alone
to greet the Sun
I wanted to see how faraway the horizon stretched
I wanted to know how tall maples and pines grew
I relished exuberant color of green
I rode on swift gusts of wind
The dandelion on the sidewalk - whom I secretly loved
nodded to me without knowing my ambition
Roaming clouds - whom I adored unreservedly, 
joined my journey without knowing my destination 
Oh June, I said hello to the Sun 
with mighty zest
telling her that I was ready to write 
another song of
myself


Saturday, May 12, 2018

The Scent of Gardenia


The scent of gardenia
sneaked out from shadows
collided with my morning ramble
and spilled joy
all-over
my leafy garden of 
May




Friday, May 11, 2018

Lush Green of May

Peace
is depicted by
the lush green of May
overflowing
from a distant field  
into 
the tender heart of 
Spring




Sunday, March 20, 2016

Sentiment

Inside darkness
my sentiment
grew
like a living organism -
broke womb, 
traversed the troubled
puberty, endured the sorrow of
middle age,
arrived
on  the land of
innocence - where 
my consciousness sleeps
under
the Moon





Sunday, March 13, 2016

Wednesday, September 2, 2015

Memory of Prairie


I had such a silent view:
Under the still gray sky
I lay on the ground, waiting for storm -
but the storm never came, only I saw
a Tibetan man with long sleeves*
riding horse across highland

Clouds were hanging low,
dense and white, like snow
I rode horse to chase them,
though they kept the distance,
like the never ending horizon

Reflected in water were clouds
River ran but the clouds remained
Once again I lay on the ground waiting for storm, yet
the storm never came, only I saw
the dark skinned Tibetan
waved his sleeves
over
my head

*Long sleeves, Tibetan style of clothing. 
(translated/rewrote from my early Chinese poem )

Gray Horse

So it was in your dream
I encountered that gray horse
and his gray mane ---
there’s no sunlight that day
only silence, stretched behind the horse
and his waving mane

No one told me the color of grass
but my impulse produced deep green
Rainy season had just gone
the horse trotted over wet grass with forlorn song

But the grass didn’t weep
trees leaned on the pale sky
creeks stopped running, began to ponder
the sternness of the wild

There I saw the gray horse
in the windless air waved was his gray mane
then I heard silence
disbelieved
that was the sound of rain

(translated, partially re-wrote from my early Chinese poem, original title: Beyond Still Image)


image sourse:
http://thelonghorseride.blogspot.com/2014_11_01_archive.html

Moonlight

Tonight, I haven't painted yet
Tonight
I've been singing, writing
and dreaming.

Moonlight is my confidant
she just visited my chaste white poetry sheets
and dwelt there --
she belongs to poetry
belongs to my songs
and my wide awakening dream

Tonight is also for thoughts
my disordered reason suddenly starts thinking
something beautiful
and it was moonlight
who is telling me
what “beauty” means

Tonight, I have not painted yet,
tonight, I sleep in my poems - who
shower under
the silver moonlight - where
I dream
the Moon


(translated, partially re-wrote from my early Chinese poem)

今夜
我没有绘画
今夜
我写诗 
    唱歌 
      做梦 

月光是知心的 
悄悄落在诗歌的纸上
她是属于诗 
   属于歌
     属于我醒着的梦 

今夜是思想 
我杂乱的思想梦见了美妙 
月光在告诉我 
告诉我美妙是什么 

今夜 
我没有绘画
在月光沐浴的诗歌里
我做着月亮的梦


Wednesday, July 22, 2015

Path Of Love

Book of love
was opened by a gentle hand
page by page;
story of love
was told by a tender voice
word by word ---
Text drifted
voice whispered
chapters intertwined
story lines undulated
and when music quietly danced through,
they all scattered
like autumn leaves
along the PATH OF LOVE
woven by
roses
and thorns




----------------------------------------------------
This poem was inspired by this piano work It's About The Rose In The Vase On The Table by Karen Marie Garret




Friday, March 6, 2015

The Bridge That Crosses Over Time

The bridge that crosses over time
stands on a solid
two dimensional ground
unperturbed
by its sundry earthy desires ---
time flies
river runs
bridge remains, and
embraces


Painting by Marc Gosselin