A River

River looked at me, asked
What is your sorrow?
I looked at river, asked back
What is yours?

Breeze tousled my hair, said
Never mind, darling, never mind.
Blue birds jumped up to the sky, yelled
Don’t ask tears why it is sad.

River whispered in my ears,
Do not stay here, woman, go far, far away.
Water mumbled a few more words
Sounds washed away indistinctive gurgles.

I looked at river, asked again.
What is your story of never-ending tears?
River swayed its head and gestured to me to come closer,
Hawk shrieked dashing up to the midday sun.

When I leaned my body towards to listen,
Tall willow on the river bank shook its long head, exclaimed
Don’t go close to sorrow, woman, go far, far away.
But I already dipped my heart in the stream.

Wind blew hard, swept my feet up from the ground.
I landed somewhere far, far away.
Everything was quiet and still, nothing flowing, nothing moving,
Only water in my mind flew with sorrow, and I became a river, there.

 

<April 24th, 2018>

 

Broken

Don’t bark,
don’t growl,
I am already in pieces.
I wish there were a superglue
that could hold a broken human together.
I imagine a giant collage of shattered human souls,
glued together without order or sequence.
What a monster it would create;
even God would be scared to look.

Any Other World

The possibility kills me,
an unconscious thread,
an absurd yearning for another life,
which might wake me someday
like an overnight snow
outstretched across the field; white.

I lost my life to another life,
a new life will never come or never be,
even a horror like Kafka’s Metamorphosis
comforts me with the chance of another.
That savoring, blinding hope
robs me of this one; the only one I have.