there is no holding on
to the night before
dawn breaks
as dawn always does
and we find another year
has passed beyond our grip
older, yes
wiser, maybe
but facing another year
long as before
with whatever hope
we can muster
to get through
all the nights
and dawns
ahead
hope
oh little boat
have courage
oh little boat
riding the current
on this raging river
heading out
to sea
from an image in a poem of Liu Tsung-yuan: puny wings
these weary arms
are like puny wings
flapping ceaselessly
in a vain attempt
to reach heaven
following Li Shang-yin’s bluebird
there the path
there that bird
that leads the way
oh to follow
over brambles through bush
a clear sky overhead
and hope residing
in these weary bones
in this worn heart
that new horizon
rain rain
wash away
the dust from my clothes
the dust clinging still
to my eyes
let me walk clean
toward that new horizon
I see
anticipation
the morning
holds promise
that the night
can fulfill
limping along
between joy
and despair
stands hope
limping along
toward tomorrow
