Accustom yourself continually to make many acts of love, for they enkindle and melt the soul.
~ Saint Teresa of Avila
on the terrace of immortals
i am laughing at mortality
I climb straight to silence
where there is no ambiguity
my eyes are like jade cubes of ice
they smile into the wind
and tear at the rainy sun
through favor or disfavor
I pay no mind at all….
in poverty or solitude
through the dreams of living
be filled with uncertainty and doubt
i speak the original language
of waiting without thinking
of loving without seizing
taking a page out of Wu Cailan’s
indifference, i find the shinning moonlight
is whiter than long ago
what’s the use of contending?
with grief or disgrace?
to both I can aptly respond
only light resides in the
city of the mind, in the
distance of the heart
that knows no separation
between places, centuries, entities
we drift happily like the clouds
our lives turn like the leaves.
Wuji Seshat 