My Notes

I see
In the clarity of evening lake.

I hear
Through the whispering midnight wind.

I touch
In the warm water I splash at the dawn.

I taste
In the green tea I sip in the morning bright.

I smell
In the best lunch of the day.

I feel
In this throbbing heart in the sweet twilight.

Across the ocean:
Name is so real,
Why not

Doraemon, lend me your Dokodemo Door to lock my unpleasant attitudes forever – don’t let hatred ignite hatred in me ☺️

Whistling Winter

Winter, Beloved,
As white as wishes whistling
Through poems and prayers.

Damascus steel cuts silk. Drips of water punch the rocks. Wind caresses the sands. Breeze sways the twigs and ushers the leaves to land on the ground. Snowflake falls one by one wrapping the ground to doze off. With eloquent silence they make things happen.

How can I say about language ….except that it is as subtly powerful as nature, or even much more with its ability to transform or transmigrate whatever is in the hands, head and heart—

Whistle to me, Winter. These ears are frozen and distant but this soul is as warm and fragrant as jasmine tea.

Monday, thank you for being nice to me. Tuesday, I know you are too. Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, be, too.


if only I learnt this language much earlier, I would have sung this song decently 😍

Singapore – Jun. 13, 2022 / 11:02pm