It’s lunch hour, so

office ladies and gentlemen go to the café

take their seats and order their food

a grumpy lady sitting by the window venting her bitterness on the phone

two serious men talking about some insurance plans

a tired woman with a frowny and sorrowful face waiting alone at the corner

when hot food and soup arrive and fill their hunger

they light up, happy and alive 

even more so with the delight of a cup of hot coffee or tea

broken as we may be

food feeds and heals us in a sacred way like the body of Christ.

My passion for arts isn’t a love at first sight

It is like two persons getting acquainted,

becoming friends,

getting along and knowing each other

more and more

deeper and deeper

then until one moment,

you are so attracted to that person

whom you find yourself suddenly fall in love with

and without whom your life is just missing a meaning to go on

and there is no turning back again.

Arts, to me, is like my lover

It does take me quite a long time to know and understand truly

Yet once fallen in love with

I love dearly, madly and unfailingly

and can never part with.

Heaven

“What does heaven look like?”

I would think when I was a teen.

People would say heaven is something beautiful outside of this world 

that Christians will go to once they die.

I was not lazy but neither was I very diligent.

If death was a passport to heaven, then it is not such a bad thing, isn’t it?

One day, at the university campus,

a female Christian leader quoted Matthew 11:12 “天國是努力進入的，努力的人就得著了”

That night, I made a dream, about my dream.

From then on, I worked like hell for it

like an unstoppable machine without fuel.

My dream was burning like a vibrant fire in the sprawling woods

I felt like being consumed by the violent fire in hell.

Bunyan put it right in Pilgrim’s Progress:

Only after being tried could we reach Heaven.

And now, I am in Heaven.

daydream

Yes, that Saturday afternoon 

between 1pm and 3pm

the weather was cloudy and bleak

Just like today

when my favourite TV series was on

and I was lying on the sofa 

watching in the dim light 

what college life could be like at one of 

the top universities in the US

I was looking out the window in my desolate flat 

at the sun setting in the far West 

daydreaming about overseas education

Yes, I could still feel how definitely good it had felt

As sweet

Though we are not so much alike

It is your kind of foreign ideas that attract me

They feel so exotic and exciting 

I like to live in the otherness that you show me

And now we smile at the strange expression

After nine years of marriage

Because it’s so true 

And as sweet as when I met you

On the Beach

This is the moment I’ve long been musing. 

You rest your head on my shoulder

looking at the beautiful view out there – 

the sea, the mountains, and the budding trees

in February sunset, 

every tide a charming melody.

Long, pleasant minutes,

your hand in my hand

feeling still soft, 

feeling still warm. 

The sound of the English language is like the sound of music.

And speaking English is like singing or playing music.

When I first learned to pronounce the English words, I chewed and played the words in my mouth until I could speak them correctly.

Afterwards, I learned to speak in sentences. The fluency, rhythm and intonation are cheerful to my ears. I feel like listening to music.

And I like the sound that I produce in my mouth when I am reading aloud because I feel like I am singing or playing music with my mouth.

So, it seems to me that listening and speaking are the very interesting way of learning the English language well.

Spring

I used to hate spring when I was small

because the weather is precarious

I would doubt the law of nature that

brings rain at the beginning of the new year.

Mum used to say

every beginning starts with hard work and hardship

So spring always feels like a bad omen.

Now spring has come again

It brings rain to our dry land

Fogs and drizzles cloud the sight afar

That we can’t see much ahead;

But while l am listening to the raindrops falling

The dripping is like music to our ears

dancing on the ground

Sitting on my armchair

I help myself a cup of hot coffee

The sweetness and sourness ferment and melt in my mouth.

The moment reveals that

we can still enjoy small joys in the midst of hardship

That sustains and carries us through to

the end of the year.

At the age of thirty-nine,

I really like spring.

My little angel

My little angel

She is natural

Like the darling buds 

The gentle breeze of May

She is pure

Like the exquisite water

The gleaming light of sliver

She likes to coo and woo 

“Mama Mama I love you”

Giggle and chuckle

Playing “Daddy Daddy I see you”

Today she turns 1 year old

“Happy Birthday to You!”

These eternal lines shall

Declare our dear love unto you.