Young Love

Love has many meaning. To some, it mean nothing, yet to other, love mean everything to them. So what make love so strong then? So strong that it will hurt us so bad if we ever let it go. It seems that when lose the love we know, sometime we fear that we might not experience the same love we have before. Like innocent love, before we learn anything about heartache. Puppies love, before we learn about commitment. Maybe that's just the things, not only we lose the feeling we once knew, we also forgot a part of us that build off this childish and innocent love. We hope that once day that time will heal all pain and we will be able to take a step forward. But that's just the thing. I believe that the only way to go forward is to take a step backward. Go back to the first moment that we first feel like love mean everything. Back to the innocent love we once knew. Back to the childish love that we all wishes to hide, but can't. In doing so, we will be able to rediscover the part of us that we lost, the part of us that have kept us so childish and innocent. Who know? The flame in our heart never dies, just dim.

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Young Love

When two hearts meet, they sing and dance.
They watch the clouds that come and went.

They sit and watch the bumble bees.
They sing along their symphony.

They stroll along the rosy field.
They laugh as they roll down the hill.

They follow where the bobcat goes.
Into a dream where no on know.

They listen to the water fall.
They two hearts beat the lion roar.

The two hearts play with river's reed.
They hold hand til they fall asleep.

My Autumn

Have not written anything for the past couple of month, but now I"m back (sort of). Here another poem that I hope you all like and Happy Thanksgiving!

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My Autumn

Staring at the maples, I wonder
what kind of secrets the trees know.
Being in one spot all the time
they must have seen everything
in this past couples of year.

And if I could,
I would ask them,

if by chance, they have seen you walking by one day.
If like me, you have made a stop here
at one point on your trip
just to have a conversation with the trees.

I would ask them
how are you doing?
and tell them, to tell you, to meet me here
on this spot a year from now
- or tomorrow.

But things are never as easy as they seem
and irony love to play with us
like some sort of puppet.

In fact, seeing you in my dream
is far more real and far more aesthetic
than any memories.

Because these memories
are just like this Autumn day.
The cool wind that marked the end
of the long Summer vacation,
and the dried leaves,
the dried leaves that are scattered everywhere.