He and Poet
He is broken heart, and live with pride
Of poet, in his broken language
And if the will so true, to make grade
Of achieve that will for age.
In the storm I admire the spirit of prayer flag!
In the snow I enjoy the beauty of snow flower!
The suffering makes me realize the happiness!
...
I sit silently and gaze out the window of this slow-moving train
I catch my breath, as my eyes land upon the angry, Indian Ocean
Memories bring storms rushing towns, wicked winds stealing homes
...