Tuesday, February 23, 2010


Don't just know if it's like stalking,
but indifferently, your image stays my mind:
like a passive log drifting along 
and irrevocably flow -- rivers I'd never known;

Your image glitters in the clear beams
of the crescent moon. Its music is silence,
and I recollect it in the chilling hours of dawn
when hope and life are born of a dream shared....

Were you part of me, or I
part of that solitary road you have walked 
listening to yourself, reminiscing--
Part of a secret lived?

when you return, your vision changed
and this indifferent gaze flushed in the twilight
of a beginning that leaves nothing back
of all we have talked and lived and hoped for?



Rhy said...
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Rhy said...



Because when the most intimate sentiments are blown in the open, they lose their flavor of intimate beauty and bliss. There is a kind of experience that is kept silently in the heart... it builds us within.

welcome to the WORLD OF HAVEN VALLEY

I am not a cut different from the ordinary human who walks the street. But in my journey, I strive to understand the music that surges from the wide worlds within every individual, that which makes him/her that fragile and sacred at the same time. I have found myself sometimes looking at someone farting with thumps-up as though goading him on to sanity. Seemingly meaningless things have been things that have communicated sense to me especially during louring hours. That is what this journal is. I offer these thoughts to the world with wonted pleasure and gratitude to all that awakens the human in me.

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