As a musk-deer, I wander in abandon,
Chasing the queer odour adrift in the morrow-wind,
Lips pursed in intent perusal;
I found it,
Beyond time.
The haunt of countless generations of poets, artists and ascetics,
The safe haven of the recluse,
The abode of the hermit;

Here I stand at the Heaven-and-Earth Bridge,
above time,
which dissolves as a fine, sparse veil of mist underneath,
Bridging the torrid river that never was.
I scout, and scour the skies, desperate to divine an omen;
Watching in askance the homebound birds.
From my precarious perch;
Those stray strokes have returned,
My prodigal creations, bound unto hitherto, sooner or later.
I ruminate my thoughts, alas, they have turned into poetry!
I ingested raw emotion, yet, I regurgitate verse;
I mull the cud, with resign.

Here I stand at the Heaven and Earth Bridge.
Virgin, pristine, unmarred by time and promise;
Forever frequented by my muses.
The afterimage still flickers,
In my eyes, your silhouette is still, as when you left.
I wonder if you’ve grown, transmogrified;
As my prodigal creation, from that one stroke of ephemeral epiphany,
A reckless, incoherent impulse of ecstasy.

Here I stand at the Heaven and Earth Bridge,
I hop off the stepping stone,
Time dissolves, its purpose served.
The only road to surmount the waterfall, begins in a penance underneath.
Ah, the myopia of farsightedness,
The foolhardiness of introspection in the superficiality of hubris
Your afterimage still flickers
An island of naïveté; An island nonetheless
A bittersweet limbo; An isolation all the same.
Its very respite its pang
Ah, the persistence of vision.

Here I stand at the Heaven and Earth Bridge,
liaising two worlds,
that my flesh interrupts.
My island of solace,
Inside me.