Breaking point

I
The treetop walk
it’s my favourite part of the rainforest exploration!
Eager to take in the
spectacular
colourful
complicated
lively
dense view
of the forest below
I leap and bound my way
to the treetop walk…..

I hear the clicks
of a harness.

For your safety, please hold on.


“How to enjoy the treetop walk” 
A manual was thrust into my hands.
Do not run or jump on the bridge.
Do not intrude into the forest residence.

That's enough rules to remember.
I toss the manual out.

The harness
tightens.

II
A big crowd ahead.
My view
blocked.

Can I hop onto the railing
and walk along it to the end?
That's not considered running, is it?
I placed one foot on the railing…..

My body tugs
against the harness.

You are not a tightrope walker.
What if you lose your balance
and fall into the abyss?

I plant my feet back on the ground
Convinced.
I promised to walk.

The harness
loosens.

III
A hornbill
resting on the branches
diagonally
across.

Can I fly to the hornbill
and make a new friend?
I'm not intruding, am I?
I flapped my imaginary wings…..

Nothing happens.
I do not fly
into the sky.
I do not fall
onto the ground.

I hear the metal clink
of the harness
as it falls off
from my body.

The struggle
wore it out.

V
Frantically
I search for you.

No one
ahead.
No one
behind.

Only the bridge
behind me
where we walked
together.

The bridge
ahead of me
which you paved
blood, sweat and tears.

Do I have sense enough
to follow
the bridge?

The life story of a shop

A shop
open for business.
Discounts, freebies, promotions,
abound.

In people come.
They walk.
They glance.
They look.
They ask.
They buy.
The dream
of a shopkeeper.

I stand
in front of the counter.
A flood of questions.
A glimmer of hope in my eyes.
A smile forming at the edge of my mouth.

But one by one
they turn their bodies
away and away.
Out they walk
empty handed
and I
feeling empty.

The clock
it shows just three o'clock.
But the shop
it has never felt
bigger
emptier
colder.

The shop
closed for business
forever.

Will it ever reopen?
I wonder.

A scene to behold

In light of the recent tumultuous events.

I
Daylight. 

Weaving in and out of clouds 
at the top of the world. 
Gorgeous view, 
gorgeous feeling. 
Beautiful. 

Please don’t sink 
I beg the sun.

II
Nightfall.
Pitch black.

III
A flash of light.

The spotlight
an artefact.

More blinding than
The Sun.
But less useful then
The Sun.

IV
I strain my eyes
and see
an endless ground
covered with fresh white snow.

White clouds in the sky
Link
the
white snow on the ground.

V
I take a step forward.
Left foot
red print.

And another step.
Right foot
blue print. 

The untouched snow
as white as ever
as wide as ever.

Please don't melt
I beg the snow.

VI
The eastern sky
A flash.
Is that a firework?

Red, blue, yellow, green...

The most gorgeous firework
I have ever
seen.

The moon

Sitting by the lake
a sea of calm water
I see
reflection of the moon.
Ordinary
thought I.

Eight, nine, ten, eleven...
I start my journey home.

Bathing in the silhouette
a sea of shadows
I see
the moon lingering behind a cloud.
Obscure
thought I.

Twelve, one, two...
I hasten my pace.

 Standing at the junction
a sea of total darkness
I see
nothing.
Fazed
became my mind.

Three, four, five...
I panic.

To the left, right, front, back,
the moon I see.
Comforted became my mind.

Six, seven, eight...
home I reach.
Perfect.

An Egg

An egg
The beginning of all lives
Its contents
Unknown.

Chicks
Young and immature
Food, space, water
Fight.
But when night falls,
Like the calm sea
They all sleep
In the same nest
Happily ever after.

Birds
Wings
Flight.

An eagle
Courage, power, vision, pride
A crane
Happiness, good luck, long life, peace
Identities found
Each carrying their own
Life mission.
Away
They fly.
Over the rainbow,
When they cry,
Will we hear them speak
Of their untamable past?
All the tears and laughter?

Just like an egg
The answer
Unknown.

Birds

Dedicated to 4M 2011, for all the memories.

We were once all birds,
flying in the sky.
By chance we perched
on the same tree.
Looking for foods on the branch
Life went on.

Another chance bestowed upon us,
we converged on the same branch.
Sharing the foods,
chirping together,
always an air of excitement.
Listening to the whisper of the wind,
united in our aims.

Today,
unvoiced thoughts in our head.
Will we have another meal together?
Will we be able to hear the rustle of the forest again?
Will our memories
be carved deep in the tree
we once perched upon
never to be forgotten?

We know they will
as we glance down on the branches
one last time.
Shifting our eyes upwards.
The sky.
Soar. Flight. Farewell.

May you be able to perch on a cloud in the future.
May we one day follow the drift of the wind
And find ourselves together on a tree again.

Memories

Memories
they flow
from a source
uphill
down the plains.

Memories
they float
they swim
they drift.
Created by threads
woven together by
us.

Memories
they flow
from the surroundings
into my head
trapped.
Never to get out
true and forever
they stay.