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Poem


The titular touch of day and night 
builds the bud layer by layer,
the blossomed design of destined time 
opens the petals,
the floral essence of existence 
gradually unfurls
the transient beauty of life, 
until the flower withers.

The wilting flower doesn’t even know 
when it’s time for the call to come 
in the cold night’s slashing silence 
from the abyss of the gloomy ground 
where it will fall
to disappear drifting 
to obscurity in the tempest of time.

On life’s rough garden path 
I walk the trudging moments,
steps tracing the last mile meandering 
to disappear at the vanishing point. 
The spectrum of the setting sun 
tinges the fading fringe of time,
turning into specks of eternity, 
sinking within the sated soul.
I float in the ethereal waves 
in the bay of infinite bliss,
drifting to the yonder shore, 
configured in the cauldron 
of timeless emptiness.

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