What do you seek in these words, dear one?
The ebbing of vague hopes,
A life resting uneasy upon jagged edifices
Of empty consolation and forgotten vows?
A life perhaps deceiving itself into sleep.
Dreams of never waking,
Dreams of life itself being the promise of a dream,
A life spent thus in dreaming.
Sometimes you stare into the mirror,
Hoping for recognition,
Hoping to find a face that abides,
And you meet a stranger in your eyes.
Like young pebbles waiting to fall into the stream,
I float without knowing how to reach the bottom.
The wise waters whisper a bronze story in my ear,
And I am reminded of enduring sorrows and abiding pleasures.
In the soft shadows of this restless night,
I look for words to bring your face to light.
(But I realize I am asleep,
And Chuang Tzu's butterflies mock my dream.)
Far away in the silence,
The moon glows of your face in the forests deep.
The ebbing of vague hopes,
A life resting uneasy upon jagged edifices
Of empty consolation and forgotten vows?
A life perhaps deceiving itself into sleep.
Dreams of never waking,
Dreams of life itself being the promise of a dream,
A life spent thus in dreaming.
Sometimes you stare into the mirror,
Hoping for recognition,
Hoping to find a face that abides,
And you meet a stranger in your eyes.
Like young pebbles waiting to fall into the stream,
I float without knowing how to reach the bottom.
The wise waters whisper a bronze story in my ear,
And I am reminded of enduring sorrows and abiding pleasures.
In the soft shadows of this restless night,
I look for words to bring your face to light.
(But I realize I am asleep,
And Chuang Tzu's butterflies mock my dream.)
Far away in the silence,
The moon glows of your face in the forests deep.
