Drives out cicadas’ chirring
In my front yard
Drizzle all day
Tries to strip the shy trees
In my backyard
Is too high to paint blue
My window upstairs
Chilly breeze at dawn
Dries out smell of sweat
From my forehead In the park
Without lonely widow
On the bench by the lake
Man can’t endure another autumn
I am talking about the apple, but
she is talking about the orange.
I don’t argue.
To avoid my claw,
she seems to be hiding in her own deep site.
“We are talking about the fruit.”
I will hold on these words until
my claw splits her spirit into pieces and
her voice of curse cuts my spirit in half.
“What are you pondering over?”
“I am thinking about the orange.”
The apple becomes the orange and
my claw that is now no threat to her is
disappearing furtively and is
waiting for the next opportunity.
“Uh?! You claw has gone!”
Was she looking at the apple too?
Can I change?
“Have some interest in your life.”
Lord says in my prayer
“Then you life will be transformed into….”
My heart is pounding
“A life you never imagined before…”
My imagination was so dull?
“A life you can’t recognize as yours.”
I am who I am
“Be not afraid. You won’t change….”
“You are who you are no matter what happens in your life.”
I gaze at my misty life hanging on the wall
“Take down the picture and get in there!”
I look around for a long ladder
I recall I have acrophobia
“So what?!” God yells.
I wonder Moses met this angry God?
When a man loves a woman and
When the woman loves the man
His dream and her dream
Become one dream, their dream
They’ve been searching the horizon and
Looking up at the sky
Trying to find the site which
They can gaze at together
Now we are looking at the same thing
Way up at the sky
Now my dream is her dream
Her dream is my dream
My dream is our dream
Her dream is our dream
We two have only one dream
‘Til our dream is no longer a dream
This is a real dream, isn’t it?
You are the person who loves.
I am the person who is loved.
Your love is too intense so
it overflows in me and returns to you.
I am the person who loves.
You are the person who is loved.
The flooded love of two persons becomes
another person who is called
doesn’t plant apple tree.
don’t plant apple tree.
1000-year is the same as one day, so
I can’t live even one day but
I am looking around for apple tree;
My one day might be the 1000-year?
Apple tree is tomorrow.
My hands, handing the oar out
to her, are shaking.
“Do you really have to leave?”
Her hands, snatching the oar
from mine, answers.
“Better think it was a dream.”
I vigorously push the canoe into the river.
“Yeah, please go!”
She is not even waving her hands.
She is leisurely getting farther away from me
in the river running unhurriedly.
Is this so-called parting?
No, this isn’t a real parting.
I am dreaming a cyber dream that
Is more dream-like than a real dream.
I pick up another cyber dream and
try to open it with pounding heart.