As old and magnificent as a banyan tree,
I sat by the unearthed curved roots,
Eastern celestial hand holding its leaves,
While the other is wrapped around its bark,
A dance ceremony to hear its whispers,
Symbiotically shared with soothing birdsongs,
Angelic beings roaming to find harmony,
However, a green leaf will soon depart,
And along with it will the hanging lanterns fade,
Except, if you truly saw the heart of the tree,
And the whispers it wrote on the walls of
Imperial palaces to root their thrones,
Then you will realise the hope in igniting
Your heart to beat melodiously once more,
Because there is no reason to pause a life,
Like birds, constantly ascending the heavens,
And so, I must relay its whispers to another,
But within it you shall always be engraved.
Upon a riverbank, the little birds chirp,
One might leap its warmth onto another,
A celestial songwriter elevates the two,
And a new birdsong is sung for us all,
On the Eastern months of a short year,
The little things that make us more of us.
A sudden movement of a pulsating star
Might indicate a celestial heartbeat,
One that awaits many hugs and kisses,
Awaiting on the shores of hope,
Listening to the whispers of life,
Leaving footprints on our sand,
Now constellations start to play darts,
And I might have missed the bullseye,
But I still look towards the pulsating star,
Hoping to reach her heartbeats, one day.
Send me towards a heavenly realm,
Where I can dance to your whispers,
Dazzle me with your celestial figure,
And stop the world beating its heart,
Always keep me by your adorable side,
And I will paint you a fabulous portrait,
Look into my eyes and let me go crazy,
Order your soul to merge into mine,
Let us sing out loud my angelic being.
An opportunity might arise in a billionth of a second,
Where he will be able to live in a billion-star hotel,
So, let him choose it without second thoughts,
And with all his might, let him make it happen,
Because that is his celestial angel awaiting.
I know not of such comparable beauty,
But as she descends and he ascends,
The two entities merge into an abstract era,
Unspoken of. Faceless. Emotionless. Timeless.
Where the clock tick-tocks through infinity: Big Bang!
And then the cries of Life bring joy to them,
Emerging from the depths of a billion-star hotel,
So, live on, live there, and live above, my love.
When the moon nourishes the heart of a forlorn sand,
And when the shooting star orbits around Polaris,
Where shall the nomadic sand go to seek seeds of guidance?
If not for the celestial bodies embedded in our skies,
The moon would dwell on uneven edges of the Earth,
But as a sand seeking a fruitful tomorrow,
I camp on mountainous constellations,
Listening to Polaris’ revelations,
How the everlasting silences of the shooting star
Will recreate the Big Bang,
How the infinite smiles of the moon
Will redirect the flow of Time,
And we may once more wonder where will the
Forlorn nomadic sand be if not for these three?
You forged many smiles into my heart
That I am barely able to voluntarily forget,
And when you have introduced yourself,
All I heard were the voices of your eyes:
Dazzling in brilliance, a primitive attraction,
To touch the serene beauty of a purified soul,
The embodiment of a celestial angel,
Eternity for her arms is my selfish desire,
And only while hugging have I seen her cry.