There is an intense feeling and it’s thrusting -- trying to shatter, trying to release,
but there is always an obstruction, trying to stop us, working to deceive.
When life is a blunder with thunder and lightning, and there is no sight of green,
search for the meadow, the woods, the forest, or some faithful trees.
And when the rich, dense rain is never-ending, believe that you are free…
as you will lose warmth and freedom the older you will be.
Seconds. Minutes. Hours. Days. Years. Pass.
Yet I wait outside my soothing, relieving motherland.
I sometimes wonder what if the snuggly sky ever curls into a soft, silky blanket--
or if it ever transforms into Aladdin’s magic blue carpet.
And if the Earth ever becomes a peaceful shade of the green grass,
can we claim that we have found Heaven at last?
It is more than just a wish, or a hope, or a dream.
It is a decision that binds us, it is a nonchalant scream.
Only fire can light up the stove that you use.
Only fire can help you stay warm on a winter night.
Only fire can offer some light when the bulbs are fused.
But only the Sun can do all--and refrain from doing harm.
The next time you wish on a starry night,
don’t close those windows of your soul.
Open them--as you would on a summer night,
as they will lead you to your identity and home.
A wise man says: “I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
and all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by.”