Easy afternoon
pages turned and soaked
in a glass of tea
listen to segments of elegant music
close my book
sleep for a while
simple life has been going
on for quite some time
when i wake
the sun is dazzling
two or three cars happen to pass by
i can feel the warmth
amidst the hustle and bustle
i hold my inner calm
with a heart that loves life
listen to the origin of joy
happiness needs not to be elaborated
further.
The past is a long
lingering dream
beautiful and melancholy
haunting in memory
long October afternoon
thoughts confused
what is it that melts into
this silent time
gentle breeze in the air
unpredictable clouds
waves of cicadas’ nocturne
i can’t forget
you are an indelible mark
it’s just the road to reunion
just unforeseeable
sun still shining
impressionist paintings aired
outside the window
just what i expected
soft light back in the yard
time is just like a river
flows aimlessly.
I’d like to think of sunshine
as a book
i stand by the window
reading the wonders of it
in a world where people come and go
searching for its radiance
the distance between me and the sun
is always just right
that i can be a part of its light
in moments of flowering
i can stay or maybe turn around
under the same sun
the potted flowers is almost like
meeting my other self
standing at the window
admiring the blue skies behind
the sun.
Wake up early
birds start to sing
pink flowers stick out of fence
green flows through alley
beetles shuttle through
buildings fill the town
oh what a beautiful morning
you and i stand quietly
at the windowsill and
become a part of them
natural light throws some ripples
into our eyes.
I think i haven’t gone
too deep into the fall
every flower, grass, tree and stone
every pair of wings of the insects
the settlement they reached with this season
though very little is known
migratory birds all packed up
flying south one after another
the leaves break free of the sleeves
of branches and time
one by one and moored in the valley
clouds are erratic
water flows slowly
alone i feel calm and contented
walking on the languorous pathway
going a little deeper
when i use my fingers
to touch the skin of this autumn
maybe this way
i can finish my innermost monologue
this once.
.
Leaves fly
like dragonflies
it seems
someone is playing the gong on the tree
color of the sun
interpreted by tiny lenses
a dazzling cascade
scatters surprises
til the edge of the forest
or wetland
fall is just a bland background
the meaning of motion
and stillness in the season
no longer disputed
love becomes the only criterion
to measure the existence of life
you can squat like a bear
jump like a squirrel
free people go
out casually in this phase
like big and small animals
no fault to find.
ChinHooi Ng's Poetic Notes 