-PERFORMANCE TWO-
MIST IN THE WILLOWS
Amongst the willow and the stream,
A small glimpse, or a vague dream.
To a safe habour, a familiar place,
I rushed unknowingly from the ever-awaiting pain.
Its that familiar forest,
Embracing the unknown mist and all in vain.
Seems I once again stopped by,
Amongst his willows and his mist.
And once again that smile perhaps flashed by my face,
When the familiar silhouette, I didn't miss.
Flowing mist led me to him,
Whilst life seemed a sorrowful sin.
Longing for a silhouette, even only a glimpse.
Indulged in his flute, he dispersed in
Somewhere among the willows, vanishing with the wind.
I discern the ever so gentle wind,
Brushing past from within the flute;
That familiar ringing echo in the wind,
The sound enchanting a saddening hue.
That bright jade bamboo flute,
His flowing silhouette seemed so true.
I'll be sitting by his magpie bridge,
Amidst the willows, waiting for his mist.
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Luna Ro.♡
P.S
I was sleeping one afternoon, which was rare at that time, when I was 12. I dreamt often back then and needless to say that I had a dream.
There was this person in a sea-green-turquoise-green robe that flew in the wind. He had long black hair, half tied up with a traditional eastern Asian long hairpin, like in those wuxia manhuas. From the size of his back- it seemed he was a man.
He was sauntering through what seemed to be a willow forest because his back was often being covered by flowing strings of leaves.
He kept walking and walking and walking. And then halted.
He brought a shiny jade-emerald green flute up to his lips, and started playing.
I couldn't hear a thing, yet it seemed as if I heard everything and even knew the sound by heart.
He played for quite a long time and eventually the music softened, the wind slowed down and so did the swaying willows.
And when he just turned around, I saw one faint smile. But never his face. Why?
For I had woken up. And at the very moment when he was just turning around because I was so excited to see who this was.
I think it was a lucid dream. Because I knew I was dreaming and I followed him because I wanted to see what would happen ahead.
That image has been branded into my head since.
Though I think its more precious exactly because of that very reason.
Hence I wrote a poem because why not?
I've modified the story a bit.
Its in the next part. Take care!
YOU ARE READING
Through Hallways Of The Castle In Spain
PoetryThese are the stories, Flowing with my heartbeats, Pushed around in my frame, Along with blood in my veins. And all I have to tell these to you, are, but mere words. An ongoing collection of poems on various themes-or maybe one, or two, perhaps vari...