My Secret

I am supposed to be dead. I should not exist here. But I do.
Nobody can see me. Nobody knows me. Even you might not know. That is just the way I am.

I want to tell you my secret, but I am too afraid to confess it.

I always resided within people. Everyone knew me, felt me, and had me. Even though no one could see me, I was their beaming smiles. I was their grateful tears. I was their ambitious dreams. I was their comfort and relief. I was their lifelines, waiting for anyone to grasp.
Whenever people faced hardships, they sought me. They would remember me and continue on with their lives. Even the ones in great affliction felt better after finding me. However, things changed.
People started becoming more greedy and competitive. They craved for materialistic wealth and envied the ones who had obtained fame and popularity. I was not important. I was not good enough. I could not motivate them anymore. What they needed was not me, but tangible objects that satisfy their voracious appetites for being better than the others. Gradually, I was forgotten among the people.

Centuries elapsed, and the people arrived at the point of Apocalypse. I wanted to help them by blowing courage into their hearts, because I knew that they could still survive if they worked together with me. Unfortunately, nobody could hear my voice, a feint cry buried in the midst of fights. In the end, a round spaceship filled with some men flew to a new location, and the unlucky individuals sadly deceased in the Apocalypse.
I went to greet the new people, who would trace a new course of history as the second generation. However, I was not welcomed. Indeed, they tried to obliterate me by shutting the doors in their minds. It was simply absurd; why would they try to get rid of me when I came to soothe their minds and guide them to start afresh?

I realized that I was a stranger to the people, an alien that intruded their land. It was a sorrowful result of people's greed. They did not look forward to their future, and they did not try to stay positive. They were  in the quest of better lives than each other. When I tried to help them out, they pushed me away then chased after me with fuming anger. Hunted down by the debris of greed, I absconded away.
Now I am all alone, stricken by fear and lost in darkness. I ask you: will you recognize me, or are you one of the people?

Come closer. So that I can whisper my secret into your curious ears.
Hope. That is my name.

Movie - "Poems of Nature"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2CralHMAzfc

Crashing Waves

The day lights up like a burning torch inside dark caves
calm ripples get ready for soaring and crashing waves.

Sunlights explode and spew out like a party champaign
Spirit of ruffled sea flows into crashing waves.

Carved through the path of time, tracing across golden sand
the endless shores are shaped, sparkling in crashing waves.

No other forces shall refresh or kindle my soul
more than the power and grace of ocean's crashing waves.

Bound in dance with the moon, an icy mass of glow, are
rising up to tap on star-specked night - the crashing waves.

Accident

Colossal ship travels on calm ocean
as pitch-black ink oozes out - a toxic potion
trickling down, down, ready to slaughter
menacingly disperse into crystal water.

Sea remains oblivious, gulping in
the fluid that silently coats the delicate skin
of innocent beings; once warm, peaceful bay
turns cold with a scent of death, as lives melt away.

As it penetrates into organs of otters, seals
and suffocates coral reefs, humanity feels
nothing; next day, news talks about the tragic
accident - is it, really, an accident?

Rain

There comes the soft rain and the smell of the ground -
angry tears that drip down amidst the smoke
washing away misery with its drizzling sound.

Chopping continues as more chainsaws surround
the lake of mangroves when the chirping crickets choke
there comes the soft rain and the smell of the ground.

The rootless trunks are stacked on a mound
to be thrown into dancing flames, as they invoke
washing away misery with its drizzling sound.

Mangroves shrivel into ashes, and workers pound
their fists, gulping down beers and cackling, as frogs croak
there comes the soft rain and the smell of the ground.

Souls of deceased trees have left a painful wound
on nature; the rain begins to fall from the gray cloak
washing away misery with its drizzling sound.

And nature watches men perish, never to be found
Slowly sinking into opaque waters, whispers spoke
there comes the soft rain and the smell of the ground
washing away misery with its drizzling sound.


This poem was inspired by Sara Teasdale's There Will Come Soft Rains

The Sun

Sleepy dawn hemmed in chilly air

taps on the lighthouse as people stare

at the very eastern point of the vast sky
where a golden orb rises fast up high
to begin the day with a magnificent flare.

Oh, how I wish I was like the red sun
Bright and lively, a scarlet flower
reaching out to warm me, whose mind
is only a rumpled sea, without power
that shimmers with tears under the light.

As I stand on the hills to greet my hero
relaxed and easy, floats over horizon
streaming upward on its heavenly ray
is the shining sun that opens the day
for me to start anew with glory and joy.

Alaskan Winter

Mountains showered in snow
suck in frosty air.
Peaks aloft
race to the sky.
Wind blusters
and whacks an eagle.
Craggy icebergs

a lazy float - 

and next to them,

A caribou shivers
its magnificent antlers.

At night,
when every life
is asleep

Deep green and navy
aurora
drifts along the night.