The lights twinkled at a distance.
Like beckoning dreams that gleams and fade, they seem tantalizingly close yet far out of reach.
In his mind, the music plays:
Standing on the bridge that crosses
The river that flows out to the sea
The wind is full of a thousand voices
They pass by the bridge and me
The wind blows, with dreams at a distance.
Thursday, May 9, 2013
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Golden City
They came upon the Golden City, and made it their home.
Around him, life is filled with the light of Hope and new roads lead on to the Future.
There is no turning back.
There is no looking back.
Around him, life is filled with the light of Hope and new roads lead on to the Future.
There is no turning back.
There is no looking back.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
On the far shore
Life isn't as different as he'd thought it would be.
On the far shore, he looked back and wondered if he had ever crossed the sea, or did he just dream it.
Dreaming is what he does, but sobriety, with all its grief, felt real.
Life is far more tranquil than the shore he'd left behind, but yet, nothing seemed to have changed.
Or perhaps everything.
On the far shore, he looked back and wondered if he had ever crossed the sea, or did he just dream it.
Dreaming is what he does, but sobriety, with all its grief, felt real.
Life is far more tranquil than the shore he'd left behind, but yet, nothing seemed to have changed.
Or perhaps everything.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
The Sea
He looked up and saw the sea.
For half a decade he has journeyed, through paths straight and winding. His sole purpose is to reach the sea at the eventual end of the road he has chosen to walk.
The sea is now in front of him.
His path continues, across the sea.
For half a decade he has journeyed, through paths straight and winding. His sole purpose is to reach the sea at the eventual end of the road he has chosen to walk.
The sea is now in front of him.
His path continues, across the sea.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Old Blog Entry: Floundering on
He raised his head and realised he could not see trees anymore.
In front of him, his path extends, undisturbed, into the quiet country ahead. Everyday he has been plodding on along this road he has chosen to walk, with one he has chosen to walk with. And yet, without knowing it, he had walked straight out of the forest. He recalled that there was once that he walked among trees, roads from all around him criss-crossed his path. But now, none are to be seen, only tranquil, peaceful plains of grass swaying in the wind. He reminded himself that it is he who has chosen to walk this path. And if it leads him out of the forest and into a quiet countryside, this is something he will have to accept.
Far away, he can see a faint outlines of those criss-crossing paths, spreading in their own fashion away to the horizon. He smiled, and hoped that those care-free paths will lead to lands filled with golden light under a swift sunrise.
He squared his shoulders and forged on, with love at his side.
In front of him, his path extends, undisturbed, into the quiet country ahead. Everyday he has been plodding on along this road he has chosen to walk, with one he has chosen to walk with. And yet, without knowing it, he had walked straight out of the forest. He recalled that there was once that he walked among trees, roads from all around him criss-crossed his path. But now, none are to be seen, only tranquil, peaceful plains of grass swaying in the wind. He reminded himself that it is he who has chosen to walk this path. And if it leads him out of the forest and into a quiet countryside, this is something he will have to accept.
Far away, he can see a faint outlines of those criss-crossing paths, spreading in their own fashion away to the horizon. He smiled, and hoped that those care-free paths will lead to lands filled with golden light under a swift sunrise.
He squared his shoulders and forged on, with love at his side.
Friday, May 8, 2009
A Dream I dreamed
I walked the plains through the darkness, with my guiding light beside me. Behind me, the woods recede into the horizon. Memories of the forest grow faint, so do the days of night.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)