Weather is my boat
From one condition
To the next
Until I arrive
At my intended address
Where I greet flowers and fruits
Hanging so close to my hands.


my dream rambutan & starfruit

my dream climbing roses
graphs of my Universe
Weather is my boat
From one condition
To the next
Until I arrive
At my intended address
Where I greet flowers and fruits
Hanging so close to my hands.


my dream rambutan & starfruit

my dream climbing roses
Weather, Beloved
Changes with the wind and sun.
Different from my heart:
Stubbornly dances for you
Even when the rain falls hard.

rain stopped when i reached home (with my keys) but the cold was wrapping my wet body — after some light shower, i decided to cook my favourite oxtail soup (lucky i boiled the oxtail this morning – i am blessed with every luck)
who said blessings don’t come when someone is under the weather? the weather waves white towel to this person just because of a bowl of oxtail soup, a bowl of pomelo and plums and a bowl of yoghurt
trust the gut and even bad weather will turn to a sweet evening
Weather is changing,
Sky isn’t. Furniture does,
Space sits still smiling.
—
No condition changes space. It’s there, might look temporarily conditioned sometimes but simply because some furniture is busy “stirring the air”. And sky is just there being the canvas of weathers which come and go.
It’s fun to observe and silently enjoy each moment of truth.
Salaam.

Warmth through my nostrils,
Vicinity is boiling —
A haze attack.
Picture borrowed from http://malaysiaupdate.tk/haze/haze-singapore-update.html
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