Wednesday, April 11

A song is not a song until it is sung.

Until it seeps into the deepest stratum of someone else’s song.

Thus you sing the song of Earth and Moon.

Thus you sing the song of rain and crimson hibiscus.

Thus you sing the song of a gilded nugget,

That is lost in the depth of a mighty river.

I am the nugget.

I was born in an exploding sun.
I carry the story of eternal time.

I tumble down the river.

I tumble past the bare cliffs and dark canyons.

I tumble down to the verdant meadow.

I touch the heart of a tiny blue flower.

I see a lonely gazelle,

Staring …

I carry the story of eternal time.

I tell my story to the tiny blue flower in the meadow.

A song is not a song until it is sung

I sing my song to the gazelle and to the blue flower

Who you are?

Gazelle or flower ?!