-Byron Hoot
The cloudy sky shadows faintly
through the faded vine shelf
down to a dilapidated wooden table
on which an old book is open
with the fuzzy characters
in the yellowed leaves,
like a dimmed doze in summer.
The cool breeze carrying a daydream
wafts in mid-air
like a swing.
A tweeting blue bird flitters over
the high bush and
hides soon
in the dense green shades,
like lightning and thunder which streak through
my chaotic consciousness–
how to paint the vacant time ahead?
only to pray and wait
for an answer.
Min Katherine Liu
Virginia Tech
WVArts Solitude
Summer 2016
2016年6月24日
夏日碎影——蓝鸟
多云的天空
透过褪色的藤架
投下些微影在
满目苍夷的书桌。
一本旧书摊开，
泛黄的页面上
字迹模糊，
象一个夏日的迷盹。
微飔托着白日梦，
秋千一样
半空中荡漾。
一只蓝鸟鸣叫着
掠过高高的灌木丛，
隐没进
浓密的绿荫，
象闪电和雷声划过
我混沌的意识——
该如何描绘
以后的空白时光？
惟有祈祷和等待
一个答案。
So let it be,
forget the twilight,
skim the clouds,
lower your body.
A piece of leaf falls,
drifts--
lifted by the cold sea water
in the boundless night.
Stars over the horizon,
too dull however,
to illuminate the dawn.
The legendary lighthouse
hides on the foggy cliff,
its sight shivers.
Wind sighs
over and over
with its hoarse throat.
Sands hard to hold
finally gone with wind
back to the vast…
Min Katherine Liu
Virginia Tech
WVArts Solitude
Summer 2019
2019
年7月31日
漂
就这样吧，
把暮光忘记，
把浮云掠去，
把身体放低。
一片叶子落下，
被冰凉的海水托住，
在漫漫黑夜里
漂--
天边有星，
却黯淡，
照不清黎明。
传说中的灯塔，
躲在迷雾后的悬崖上，
目光颤栗。
风嘶哑着喉咙，
一遍遍地
叹息。
握不住的沙，
终究要随风散去，
归于无垠……
In the short days, long, cold winter
nights the urge for change turns
deep inside. Some old story
starts to be told of hope.
Some woman, barely more
than a girl, some man old enough
to be her father wed in the wedlock
of the divine: she pregnant
with unknown meaning. . .
A man, a woman, a child
unborn and a perilous journey
across land, against law
and custom. Lodged, they sleep
with the warmth of animals. Some
star, unseen before, guides Magi
and shepherds to a manger.
A child, a son is born confirming
the forgotten birthright
of the divinely-human. Then
dreams and warnings, the flight
into the unknown, the killing
of the innocents.
Our desire is to see the young-bride,
the father who is not the father,
the child arrive safely in exile.
In the short days, long, cold nights
of winter, this story arrives
and we are pleased and troubled,
put at ease and dis-ease
at how the story came to be
and what it means.
-Byron Hoot
Habibi,
I am bone weary –
But dogged determination is the only way
I know. I am weighted, holding gifts:
In one hand a full bucket of fresh qualla
And in the other a basketful of lapis lazuli –
Right and left, left and right
Each one representing the other.
Everything is washed with that cold
Comfortless dense white light of a dark
Winter mountain day
And my burden has broken me physically.
I stand in the mud shivering
Feeling like a character in a Beckett novel:
Less human perhaps than a constantly thinking tree,
Observing and rooting deeper and deeper and deeper,
Increasingly aware that this perseverance
Is probably all in vain.
Petrified, my many names becoming no name.
No one cares about the contents
Of my ever-ticking, tocking, loudly thinking mind.
I no longer have the will to ask
For peace as I literally creak and split
With time and weather and fatigue,
Shattered at last by my unappreciated,
Unrewarded steadfastness.
This must be what Daphne felt like,
Except I was neither runner nor chaser –
Though I wait, exhausted unto death
By my own pointless patience and listening
For silence within my reverberating head.
And if there is no release back
Into human form, at least maybe
People may tie windchimes
On all my branches
So that when they pass by
They will pause a moment to mark
What is left of this existence with the
Smallest of fleeting wonder.
-Sabne Raznik
http://www.facebook.com/sabneraznik
We laid in the grass
Gazed up at the deep wonderous blue
Clouds of white fully shapes danced and glided before us
We watched with anticipation
The journey of becoming one
With their misty wisps reaching for another, pulling each other in closer until becoming one, boundaries disappearing
We stayed
We laughed
Together joined below as above
-Laurel Rising
I watched you fall from the deep blue.
Did you hold on as long as you could?
Or maybe you welcomed your flight of descent?
You landed with grace.
I waited, never looking away.
I wanted to capture you, to hold onto our moment.
Moments later, I pulled you in and kept you safe.
In distraction, I let you go.
I walked away in peace, knowing that is what you always wanted.
In grace and gratitude, we part.
-Laurel Rising
https://laurelrising.wordpress.com
Darkness crept in to dull the colors,
Yet bunches of fallen leaves caught my eye
Without hurry or intent, I began to search,
To find what had been left
Gathering the given,
One by one I formed an arrangement of green, yellow, and brown.
A lesson of presence in a moment to notice the surrounding beauty.
Moments of therapy to heal my soul.
-Laurel Rising
