I felt blessed riding the 6:05 train from Chuncheon to Sareung.
Maybe it was the ample, honest glow of the sun
still stretching behind the mossy mountains,
limbering up for the dawn's day ahead.

Maybe it's because I could hear-
sure as the train's faithful stop at each and every station-
God breathing celestial calm down into the valley,
stirring the leaves, but letting the people sleep.

Maybe it's because there sat leaning against me
a beautiful native friend, using me as a pillow-
one surely not as soft as the fluffy duvet
of fog which tenderly kept the river banks tucked-in.

Or maybe because each of her gentle stirs
reminded me of my place on earth right there, right then,
and kept me from being overwhlemed by it all,
kept me in my seat,
kept me from suddenly getting off at one of the vacant sacred stops
and attempting to be at one with the majestic.

If only I've noticed quicker ,
in times like these's I can only but be a shameless fool,
so cold and heartless,
this boy does not desire this pain or suffering,
but no justice has been surved in this crime,
no lock ups or killings,
just verbal fights between family and foes,
I cry internally to feel more overwhlemed ,
but that doesn't compare to what this child is going through,
Instead or talking,
I'm taking action,
If I have to pour out all my organs so this child can be save I will,
If I have to fight my way to him I will,
If I have to talk for him I will,
I will do anything because I know he doesn't desire this,
his childhood shouldn't be in sorrows or tears,

I will save him,


Thank you for not giving up on me,
I'm sorry.