I ended up looking
at some dying lotus.
Slowed down by the
humid Hangzhou heat.
The cicadas tried to help out.
Singing “Don’t go! Don’t ‘go!’.
But everything lives
in a dewdrop world.
A ceremony of the spirit
No more than this.

Nothing lasts,
nothing at all.
The buildings crumble,
the flowers die.
And soon enough,
I will turn to dust.
So, what shall I do?
I will persist with courage.
Listening to voices
of integrity and honesty.
Softly smoothly those voices echo.
Coming and going… so far away.

Contemplating the
hidden heart in all of us.
And the pain that never
flows away for many.
I will look carefully at the shadows
and the colours in the high trees.
Staring at love, anger, sorrow, joy –
my mind will move
with the thoughts.
Nothing will be fixed and
everything will vanish.
Once clearly seen, it dies!

Under cherry trees –
all hatred, and desire is lost.
There are no strangers.

But, you must
still have the blade.
To face the autumn wind.

Dew of the grass.
Blade of the pen.
A bright flame in the desert.

​Summer nights in Yunnan.
​My span of life before me.
​The bullfrogs talked
​amongst themselves.
​Always going it alone
​against the odds.
​And when in rained in
​Shangri-La – it felt
​like a world away.
​But I came with an umbrella.
​And the midnight
​moon for a soul.
​There was always
a way ​to the sun’s path.
​Silent and still.
​You showed me this way.
​Now I will follow the path
of sunlight and moonlight.
​

​Once, I lived the
​life of a warrior.
​The summer breeze
​that would bring a
​menacing blade.
​Could not divide the
​the air I breathed.
Now, I write poems.
And each day I address
the dealer of death.
All challenges are
definitely met.
​

​The earth – coloured river
​flows with certainty.
​It knows its past
​But the future is unknown.
​Just like me really.
​But like the river
​I remain in this world .
​So I will keep on moving
​And head towards the sea

In Shangri-La
we enjoy the rain.
A rainy day in August
awakens the
world in all of us.
Even the dogs
come out in the
rain in Shangri-La.
It’s really all the
same wetness.
Summer rain
autumn rain,
winter rain
and spring rain.
It falls on all of us –
the same way.
​
​

​So much of life is fragile.
​And too many people
​experiment with the dark.
​But among the fall of shadows,
​a thinning light can still be seen.
​It is within us all
​and can bloom in the
​dawn-dusk sky.
​But this light needs quite
​and gentle work.
​And is only lit from within.

​Once, a time ago.
​I walked along
​a path of pain and loss.
​Nothing was pure or simple.
​A billion stars later.
​Everything rises and flows.
​Even though the trees still weep

​Oh snail.
I see you there.
I am walking
the streets like you.
Do you have a place to go?
Let’s us go together.
But slowly,
oh so slowly.
​