Cloudberry
1.
Growing,
Frail, but cherished.
Should such be predicted
In a vast plain of frost,
Not to mention
What ice brewed and distilled,
What instinct be harvested
For the beauty beyond winter's cold.
2.
Since when?
Fair landing on the shore,
Hopeless, bitter,
Or whatever they say…
By will or force?
If I could remember,
Spreading arms catching warmth,
Bury deep for a comfortable shelter.
Such is the work
Since ancestral, since when?
Blazing shines to feverish nights,
Clouds breathe light when stars blink bright,
Standing still is all too swift,
Painting the wild while ripeness be craved,
Survival in struggle,
Or whatever they say…
Proud, since when?
Gifted will with blessed might,
Journeyman in labor
Red in blush hangs no drop of sweat,
Only a cradled dream
For another sprout to handle,
Vital breed for a tender weed,
Or whatever they say…
Countless,
But the tune still weaves in silence.
What will not be written
Into words of wisdom, or open stabs,
So that pages be burned
Or scattered in the air,
While the seeker of truth be present
Or for another day,
So the same weary sleep
Be bounded in a well-hidden keep.
3.
(Endless yet queer, of greed and pleasure in stir,
When woods be peeled and seals melt once more
Carried into oblivion, if I do care a bit,
Though I might lead if this wish be granted,
But rather fall into slumber,
In chew and stir
I am but a plant of my instinct…)
Miracle,
Not fit for those who needs no remedy
To cure, to heal, to tend
A wound that bears my name.
A scar that lasts my fame.
I walk the plains and snows alike,
Scourging the sea with padding sweeps,
From heads in swing rocking a basket with wings,
And trapped indeed,
As statues of tombs be guarding in gloom,
Adventure is doom, frightful and cruel,
So death be guarded, and new blood be spilled,
What was erected now bashed in swoon,
Only by spirits since old
Can a heart of stone be broken,
With tender needles soft in gold
Drills its way into veins in flow,
When runes by saints be wrought upon swords,
So did the guardians
Release a wall of furious enchantments.
(By my will I lay, or was I indeed?
Body be wasted before blood melts free.
But the soul will never blend in ease,
When asylum tumbles before cushion for kings,
A peasant am I as challenge drowns me
Or if I remember,
For another stroke in tongues of script.)
4.
Flights of adventure,
Maybe once I've took
Before I stay observing,
Before I walk once more.
Orange leaves for autumn treat.
Summer breeze of salt and sea,
Crystal chips on winter's sheet.
Emerald song for a spring to weave.
Seasons brew a gentle stream,
And so I plant a simple seed
For a memory to pass my glittering green,
Fading dream can slay my delicate leaves.
But country scenes now far from seen,
Perils and quest forms my ultimate destiny.
From sailing sea to sky of wings,
Fire and steel still boils in red,
Thus I am always far from home
Where a will to restrain leaves me alone.
(A maul with handles but easy use for strangers,
Codes of riders stacked deep under orders.
Iron bows should crack if not wielded in proper,
Invincible armors are illusions of legends.
For how long does a pupil learns its lesson?
While the sculptor of gargoyles watches in silence
I still lay humble beside his reckless predictions.)
Temple of wood
Torched and swept clean,
Then replaced by another,
When spirits of nature abandons me,
Yet the wanderer still seeks homely shelter,
So the same ribbon ties us together
While I waved goodbye once more
On another flight of adventure.
5.
Oh…so it has rumored…
Pearl of the sea, jewel of the wild,
(Sprinkle, sprinkle, sprinkle)
So that all can take a look.
Sure I return to ice
Where freshness once abide,
So aboard a ship of sailors
Fighting a battle nonetheless.
But when tides of fortune
Will never be concerned,
So was a past of bloodshed
Left in dust and ruins.
(Jewel upon crown for cheap valor of symbols,
Toppings of passion under tainted gowns of riches,
Squeezed and depleted, the bloodline of heroes,
Only for others to dread palatial curses.)
For extravagance so true,
Dripping pleasure
In simple imagination,
Polished and crafted,
As I do understand,
Shining desire packed in a chest
That reminds me of a past
Once where we bear root
Until history was left behind.
But for beauty in awe
With a spoonful of delight.
Fine then.
By sticking a finger,
I am but another flavor.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cloudberry
2006/5/24
(Begin writing since 2005/12/13)
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Let not a drop of desire
Disturb the heart in ripples
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