Letter to my geisha

Dearest mistress of the arts,

I send this letter, as light departs.

Host my encrypted words

And seed them in the roots of your memory records.

The banquet of our covenant has begun,

Refined and light as the filoplume quill.

So dance, rejoice, and flood the soul with sake;

Allow the koto and shamisen to play and let your brilliance bend silence’s will.

Perfection might be forsaken dimensions

In alluring illusions,

But thy jewel embellishes life with equilibrium’s visions.

I shall arrive soon to witness your magical powers of bliss

As you shift y soul and carcass through universes…

Grant us passage to drift away in the floating world

And then let us promenade in the world of flowers and willows.

Sit on the tatami, at my side, as spirit’s confident and advisor of the mind

Indulge your wisdom to caress my ears and pour tea into my cup,

Might you will be so gentle and kind.

I free you now of my tainted writing

And leave you to make the arrangements and preparations

So you can look after my canvas of intentions.

I await with eagerness our encounter of exquisite hours

And send my best wishes to you, masterpiece of the muses.

Thinking of Pangu

Chaos… so primal… so untamed!

He does not bear the shackles of a shape

And dwells in mists of perfection…

First there was the egg, in darkness and legendary,

Enveloped within its oval shape and grown in slumber’s lace…

After ages this was called the curve of space

And even Einstein about this had a theory.

A deafening roar was the beginning

And heard for the ages to come,

Even scientists heard its singing,

In notes of exploding matter was orchestrated by some.

In a perpetual movement of gracious steps,

Vivaciously was birthed and nourished the world transformation.

Twice epochs of eighteen millennia

A god-hero crafted harmony between

The essence of yang and the spirit of yin.

An artisan with the axe in his hand

He brought forth his creations upon the land.

And so, the legend said that were born:

The turtle, the dragon, the phoenix and Qilin the unicorn.

At his death, he brought gifts:

Jade and bones,

Roads and mists,

Pearls and stones,

Mountains and waters,

Edges and pillars,

Rains and thunders,

Soil and stars,

Flora and winds.

Controversial as always is the nature of humans and their kin,

Wisest of all and proud of their origin

As they might have been:

Are they the echo of his soul or parasites of his skin?

Heed the quill’s words that start to spin –

The myths of Pangu are ancient wisdoms of:

The greatness of the boundless universe;

Life and death;

Poverty and wealth;

Arts and inventions;

Nothingness and creations;

The perfect harmony inscribed in the roles we are chosen to enact

And the counterbalance built between and within.

The flower of Asia

Fragrances of autumn’s petals

Conquer the kingdom of bauhinias,

While zephyr whips the muddy pearl

To open the athirst mouth and drink heaven’s offering.

Semitropical enchantment, in dances of waltz,

Conjures earth, sea and sky to melt

In refined burlesque.

Exotic and eclectic, with passion and ration –

Embellished in charm and myths,

A realm of creeds to nourish the mind and beliefs to disenthrall the heart…

History and future stand in the same timeless body

Building the effervescence of the present,

Present who wears the most famous incense –

The hard worked success… for the better!

Be it in sun’s shadow of rays

Or in the rainiest of days,

The giant glass sons wink

In a dazzling and invigorating exorcism

Of scenery beyond beauty and beauty beyond imagination:

A chaste jade of phenomenon

Carved from eternity’s quarry and chiseled by thriving muses.

An untamed universe between two words, where mesmerized we belong,

When in visit, when in travels, one can only discover the free harbor in everyone’s song

The ever flourishing flower of Asia: Hong Kong.