
The Light of the Sun
Lifts Cloaks of Heaven.
Earth Sings a New Season.

The Light of the Sun
Lifts Cloaks of Heaven.
Earth Sings a New Season.

Herewith an ancient Grecian urn,
An ancient spirit of an unknown poet
Pines for the Divine Mania to inurn
The Great Four Madnesses as yet.
Against a Circle of Time ever more,
His pursuit of the Great Mania restless
And undead forever haunting thereafter
Circles an epicycle orb in orb timeless.
The Religious Madness from Dionysius – He knows no believing.
The Poetic Madness from the Muses – He looks to elsewhere.
The Madness of Love from Aphrodite – He experiences no feeling.
The Pythia’s Inspiration from Apollo – He turns to elsewhere.
Wherefore the poet runs after the Great Mania,
The delusion of Perfection still orbits the urn
In a room of Ancient Gallery of misty panorama
Of the incessant enthusiasm for the Great to yearn.

In a grey muslin veil
The last maiden of April
Sheds her tears of farewell
To earth tolling the final bell.
P.S.: This rainy afternoon of the last day of April disappears into our memory of time, being the experience of the ethos of the time we live in. Goodbye to April, 2018…

I find and lose; you wonder in vain
How it can be.
I know not, but I know the pain
is deep in me.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of technology and information, it was the age of rationalism, it was the epoch of you-could-do-anything, it was the epoch of upstart, it was the season of Hope, it was the season of Despair, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair… That was how Randy Beaver was thinking while reposing his starving self at a snack cart on a sunny Tuesday afternoon. Randy had been seeking employment since he lost a job as a warehouse manager of Pony Express due to company restructuring, but the Fates had not seemed to wink at him just yet. Nevertheless, his evergreen positive mindset and go-aheaditiveness made him vigilant of falling into a bottomless pit of despondency. Besides, the fact that he was a head of his dear family kept him going in spite of all adversaries trying to dispirit him.

“Okidoki. So what’s new in today’s newspaper? Hmm… A Mountain lion crossed a freeway through a culvert that was about as long as two football fields in Santa Caritas. That must have been quite an adventure for the guy! What a spirit of fortitude and courage! And what else fascinating? Wait a moment! I can’t believe this!” Randy’s eyes were sparkling with excitement and incredulity mixed in wonder as he was reading a notice section, in which Avonlea’s new real estate developer named John Elephant was selling a derelict building on the 3rd Avenue at a half of the original price.
“I have “$50,000.00 in my saving account at the bank, which is enough to buy the building. I can convert it into a nice French restaurant with my being a chef myself. Thanks to my culinary skills inherited from my father who was of a great French cook originally coming from Lyon, I can cook a variety of delicious French meals in homemade style.” Hereupon, the rest of the story became the genesis of Randy’s new and exciting business adventure. What had once been derelict, nondescript building was a cozy pretty French restaurant named, La Boum, meaning the party in English, which his lovely wife Brenda thought fantastic befitting the menu and the atmosphere they would provide to their customers.

Randy’s specialty was Swiss-styled Raclette made with cheese from Alsace, where his distant paternal cousins live and provide the best of the ingredients for La Boum at honest prices. In this way, Randy could cut off avaricious middle men and become cost-effective, so that he would devote himself to the quality of the menu he afford to his customers who would regard La Boum as a fine restaurant where delicacy of the food would awaken their taste buds in an ambience quaintly and fabulously mixed with urban sophistication and charming rusticity which can attract a variety of different patronage, ranging from urbanites to rural folks.

Needless to say, Randy’s first customers were Brenda and Betty, for they’re the best and most discriminate gourmets unafraid of honest opinions of the food they tasted based upon their excellent faculties of taste in combination with spiritual abilities to look into the hearts and souls of whoever makes the food. Surely, Randy’s crepe for Brenda and Seaweed salad for Betty were a feast they wholeheartedly enjoyed. With such delicious menu with fine culinary skills acknowledged by his most punctilious connoisseurs of food, plus a good moral character, Randy’s business success will be a logical consequence, which echoes what Ralph Waldo Emerson addressed to the audience two centuries ago as follows:
Knowledge, plus a good moral character ensues business success.


Like an ancient statue of marble,
She was sitting there alone, noble;
Like a flower soaked in crimson waters,
She was drowning deep in Rivers of Fears;
Like a fairy ogled by an eager ogre so foul,
She was seeking a niche to save her soul
Chased by terrors of the repulsive with a howl
Until she cried out loud, “Artemis! Save Me!”
Then was heard no more, seen no more, but a tree
High and solitary like a statue once sitting there.
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