In memory of...

They brought us into a deadly game: Hope.

 Photo by Starr Jiang.

Dance pαrт 1

Beneath Hades' darkest lair,

Above the star unnamed but beloved,

I gleaned of the eve of man,

And wove a castle in the air.

There is a time to conjecture;

A time to collect surmise by surmise.

But in that little castle,

I could only sit thoughtlessly

As my obsolete world flew by. 

Silver-lined butterflies
 -a realm of thought afar-

 Brought consolation to the grate of fear.

They knew nothing of iniquity,

Nor the spell that vaporized my tears.

Though every tattered day,
Dimity of sunshine would appear.
The ghost of  halcyon befell their wings,
As they reigned paragons in the willowwacks.
And from that minute on,
I knew such apparitions could sing.

Their music was not written,
Nor heard or seen.
Rather an impulse amidst the soul,
Like the love that caresses thee.

Sometimes as I walk this earth,
I am welcomed by many a blight.
And thus I elude the silhouettes,
To the fortress in deceiving flight.

But the leaves of intricate nervure
-their backbones a somersault away -
Are a reminiscence to the immortals,
That danced a blustery breeze yesterday.

The gardens may be a delightful dream;
An imperial throne for one only.
Though I do not regret that the butterflies,
Had not mentioned where they were going.

Ships Painted Blue

Blue is the color of peace and belonging, of dreams and other ineffable thoughts. It's the shade of simplicity tarnished with the slightest drop iridescence, like how mussels shimmer with their alluring opalescent sheen.

Once in a while, we forget to give a second chance and imagine happiness as a one stop ticket. We live like there is no tomorrow, slipping the most insignificant errors under careful scrutiny. Meanwhile, life moves on, and we are in oblivion to the gifts it continues to send us.

Lately, during  bi-monthly excursions to the shore, I have noticed flocks of seagulls languishing along the ropes of sand, their eyes searching the sea for something I feel they have lost. Occasionally, I would attempt to wave them away to fly the seven seas, hoping that they will discover what their hearts so desperately want to acquire. But all strategies end in vain, for they return in mid-flight with wary gleams in their eyes, defeated in the midst of their quest.

I see this as a metaphor to human society, how fear prevents us from reaching our utmost dreams. How fear also contaminates others into thinking life is nothing but a facade. Terror can be delusional and in many cases, deadly.

In the mystical peaks of Tibet, there are people who dedicate themselves to the life of Buddha, people who live poverty but cherish it. They claim that they have lost the ability to fear by learning love and compassion, but I feel anyone can overcome it with acceptance. With courage.

If you have been following the UK riots recently, you may have been informed that the unrest  was partially caused by people racked with desperation and anger. Unemployment and deep cuts in welfare payments have made citizens fearful for their future and their country. They were bystanders innocent in all aspects until anxiety drove them to pandemonium and chaos, the only direction they could express themselves because a compromise could not be made with the government. It is unnerving how emotion can sometimes get the better of us and bring a world held in such high esteem to utter turmoil. 

And then there is blue. The color that influenced the sky and sea. On the surface,  the ocean may seem like a veil deceiving us from how things really are. The sky may be an opaque blanket not to be penetrated. Just like fear.

But if one stretches her hand and dips it within, she will know that in one perspective, she is reaching into a realm of emptiness. Into an endless vault of imagination and illusion. Into space seemingly intangible.

"What is fear? Does it really exist?"