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Every step I make writes a story...

And the trouble is, if you don't risk anything, you'll risk even more...

Linh miu

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Long Ago, there was a bird who sang just once in its life. From the moment it left its nest, it searched for a thorn tree. And it never rested until it found one. Then it began to sing more sweetly than any other creature on the face of the earth. And singing, it impaled its breast on the longest, sharpest thorn. But as it was dying, it rose above its own agony to out-sing the lark and the nightingale. The thorn bird pays its life for that one song, and the whole world stills to listen, and God, in His heaven, smiles. As its best was bought only at the cost of great pain. Driven to the thorn, with no knowledge of the dying to come. But when we press the thorn to our breast, We know........We understand..And still...We do it........

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December 25

Promises like Pie Crust

Promise me no promises,
So will I not promise you:
Keep we both our liberties,
Never false and never true:
Let us hold the die uncast,
Free to come as free to go:
For I cannot know your past,
And of mine what can you know?

You, so warm, may once have been
Warmer towards another one:
I, so cold, may once have seen
Sunlight, once have felt the sun:
Who shall show us if it was
Thus indeed in time of old?
Fades the image from the glass,
And the fortune is not told.

If you promised, you might grieve
For lost liberty again:
If I promised, I believe
I should fret to break the chain.
Let us be the friends we were,
Nothing more but nothing less:
Many thrive on frugal fare
Who would perish of excess.

Promises like pie crust....

 
August 18

Driftwood

Everything is open
Nothing is set in stone
Rivers turn to ocean
Oceans tide you home
Home is where your heart is
But your heart had to roam

Drifting over bridges
Never to return
Watching bridges burn

You’re driftwood floating underwater
Breaking into pieces pieces pieces
Just driftwood hollow and of no use
Waterfalls will find you, bind you, grind you

Nobody is an island
Everyone has to go
Pillars turn to butter
Butterflying low
Low is where your heart is
But your heart has to grow
Drifting under bridges
Never with the flow

And you really didn’t think it would happen
But it really is the end of the line
So I’m sorry that you turned to driftwood
But you’ve been drifting for a long long time

Everywhere there’s trouble
Nowhere’s safe to go
Pushes turn to shovel’s
Shovelling the snow
Frozen you have chosen
The path you wish to go
Drifting now forever
And forever more
Until you reach your shore


You’ve been drifting for a long long
Drifting for a long long time
---------------------------------------------
...Keep on drifting, until you reach your shore...
July 27

My small stories

Let me tell you, dear
the stories of winter
of you
of me
of love
and of  those storms far away in the ocean

Let me tell you about winter first, dear
I love winter
Love the cold cold nights that chilled my mind
Frozen and stunned in my thick-cotton-coat and wool gloves
Yet just one word from you
kept me warm for the whole season

now let me talk about you, dear
you-sweet
you-warm
you-full of love
but don't pamper me that much, dear
me-strange
me-always looking for the hands of time

well, now I talk about me, dear
I...love the gloomy and mournful afternoon
love winter
and...I love you, dear
my heart-the flame is still burning
I'm tender-you knew this, right, dear?
I'm extravagant-you may also have known this?
so love me, dear
but don't prison me in prejudices
to me they are powerless
Wake me up with your true love, please dear
then I dare face whatever tomorrow may bring

I am telling you at last, dear
the story of unsleeping ocean
when all the storms dissolve into the silver waves
the story of love and the prayer

but now...
just let me sing the lullaby. dear
then love will sleep soundly on the white-haired waves
now, time to sleep, dear...
winter is coming with her ruby lip.

Busan, 05:00am

 

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