The Surge

I read it somewhere
.
.
I am
.
.
f
o
r
getting

where? But it doesnt matter where
I read that Trout swims upstream
And Lingshan is a journey
Upwards too
this man Gao wants to understand life
And he goes deep into the
Mountains
Too farther and too far I think.
I think.
The fish wants to fail and go back to the sea.
The child is running towards her
Mother
With a balloon clenched in her fist.
Too tight.
Wrong direction.  The balloon floats away.
The mother is cleaning the scratch on the knee.
The stocking have gotten dirty. little girl
be careful of the filth around you
Walk with your eyes on the ground.
I have to remind myself to look at the sky and the changing colors of the evening sun.
My gaze is downwards forever
I want to swim against the stream
And be caught by a fisherman
I want to taste the warmth of my body leave as he holds me
Easing life out of my flapping body.
Death concludes nothing.
I live in the blood of those I clenched the hospital railing for.
Agony reminded me life was within me.
Here
The stream is cold
The journey is an odyssey
Birth is the beginning
of a cyclic
Repetitive
Movement
Never ending
Never breaking
So the Trout swims
The child runs
Living returns
Each time to the same order
Beaten paths
Broken pathways
Time unspent.

images-3

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s