Mark the eyes floats on a mirror
like lake, a vibrancy hidden peace,
cloisters claws in pairs of fading
blue, a torrent merged in stream.
Blur the face it is not a mirror,
we foreign, a line from sky to ground,
I wondered his visit in the blinking
note, a quake in tones he speaks,
filches my mind to him so I
the feather always bend in winds,
could set my wings in free
and the rain, the thunder, the storm,
and many many many
I see two more years ahead.
Now his note speaks again drop down,
my fingers open in eyes,
receive, for an invited
light.
(The flower beneath the leaves, takes me years in snow to find the bliss)
叶底藏花一度，梦里踏雪几回, poem for a lovely human
YOU ARE READING
Tigress from the east
PoetryA poetry collection written by a Chinese girl. Biggest life goal of her: sitting in perfect balance of daylights and nights, back towards a mysterious naked tree, a cup of chai is better than coffee. Thinking, turn a being as living
