|
池塘一朵蓮， |
One lotus in the pond, |
泥中蓮
Mary of the Unguents
I chose my steps, I named my skin,
No hand but mine taught me this cost.
The door was dark; I entered in,
Not lost to sin—aware of loss.
They weighed me down with borrowed shame,
As if my breath were theirs to bind.
I kept my body, kept my name,
A clear-eyed will, a steady mind.
I poured the oil with honest grace,
Not to be saved, nor to be seen.
I met his silence face to face,
And knew the truth that stood between.
I rose before the sun could speak;
The stone had learned to step aside.
I did not weep because I’m weak—
I wept because I chose, and tried.
Spring Coming to London
Spring’s creepin’ in across the town,
The London chill starts windin’ down.
I feel me step grow light and free—
Spring’s ’ere at last, and so are we.
The blossoms pop along the street,
And London hums its softer beat.
I tip me cap and breathe it in—
Spring’s back, and life can start again.
The winter’s grip has lost its bite,
And London starts to feel alright.
I stroll along with brighter eyes—
Spring’s come to chase off all the sighs.
月止於門
|
你話月會臉紅， |
You say the moon would blush. |
春至
|
春風徐來， |
Spring breeze gently comes, |
The One Ring
In shadow’s forge a perfect circle gleamed,
A whisper bound in gold without a seam.
No jewel sang so softly, yet it seemed
To bend the air as thought bends into dream.
It bore no flame, yet kindled hidden fire;
No voice, yet moved the marrow of the will.
A weight so slight, yet heavy with desire,
A silence deep enough to teach of ill.
It waited—not for kings, but for the frail,
For those whose longing outpaced mortal breath.
Its promise shone like moonlight on a veil,
A beauty edged with slow, encircling death.
So lies the Ring: a circle closed and small,
Yet wide enough to swallow kingdoms whole.
Winter’s Last Spells ower the Lomond
The Lomond lies in winter’s keep,
A cauldness clingin’ hard and deep.
Yet cracks o’ thaw begin tae show,
As winter’s grip turns soft and slow.
The Gate That Opens by Choice
I do not open all at once.
I discern.
Desire does not come to me by sight alone,
nor by hunger, nor by the blunt asking of hands.
It arrives only after knowing—
after the long, quiet study
of who stands before me
and whether they can bear my attention.
I have learned the difference
between access and intimacy.
My body knows how to perform—
yes.
It was taught.
Twice I crossed the threshold for coin,
with composure, with discipline,
with my heart folded neatly away
like silk not meant for every season.
I did not give myself then.
I executed a form.
What awakens me now
is rarer.
It begins behind the eyes,
a recognition rather than a spark,
then settles slowly into the body—
behind the knees, along the spine—
as if asking permission at every turn.
I am not loud with wanting.
I am selective.
There is a moment—
you would miss it if you reached too quickly—
when I decide.
When the gate opens not because it was pushed,
but because I stepped aside.
In that moment,
I am not a lesson,
nor a service,
nor a history.
I am a woman who chooses.
And when I open then—
it is not rehearsal,
not transaction,
not craft—
but the quiet, irrevocable yielding
of someone who knows
exactly what she is worth,
and exactly
to whom she will offer
the depth that cannot be taught.
Friday the Deliverance
At last it’s Friday, bless me soul,
I’ve crawled out of that workday hole.
I sling me bag and stride outside—
Sweet Friday’s come to turn the tide.
Tai O
|
大澳嘅早晨 |
Tai O wakes |
冬眠之時
|
冬天瞓着咗 |
Winter falls asleep |
Memories in the Hills
We raced the winds ower heathered ground,
My collie dartin’ quick and sound.
Thae days still glow within my mind—
A joy that bides, aye warm and kind.
He’d weave through whins wi’ nimble grace,
A spark o’ life in every chase.
The hills rang loud wi’ bark and cheer,
A world made ours, sae bright and clear.
The sun hung low on purple brae,
Yet still we ran the hours away.
His shadow danced alang wi’ mine—
Two wanderers in perfect line.
And though the seasons shift and turn,
Thae memories in my chest still burn.
They rise like licht in morning dew—
A bond that aye feels fresh and true.
My 3DXChat life 