Till the Tide comes in


My will glory in preservation.
My mind will take heed of any good suggestions
That are wise, thoughtful, honest, and sensible.
My sufferings will be granted compensations,
A reward, which will be priceless and noble.
My hopes are high, my yearnings are strong
while I breathe in my earthly life,
Paved with many a trajectory,
sailed on many an uncharted ocean.
Dum Spiro Spera.

the unquiet mind

The mind is its own place,
And it is its own domain,
Where it can make a celestial palace
out of hellish dungeon,
and vice versa.

Or so it says, or so it believes.
But what about a void filled with
howling of a soul lost in darkness
not knowing where to find the light
to figure out whereabouts of the soul?

Alas, the mind is at a loss,
a loss that cannot even know
where the mind can be at ease,
that seems to be in labyrinth fraught
with pebbles on the ground and webs
in the sight that I must huddle thru
to reach the meaning of my life.
There my mind can be at rest at last.

A Word and A Letter


A Word

A word doesn’t come easy
When it does not mean any,
Some say.

I say it only
Comes easy to mean what I say


A Letter to God

In an envelope labeled:
I addressed God a letter.

In the envelope received:
God has moved somewhere.

Monday, March 28th, 2016