They were once an innocent green
like seeds of other plants
small in size but big enough
to contain the wholeness of nature
tropical sunshine
fragrant soil
high-land breezes
but as the chosen ones
they are picked, washed, roasted
reborn in human civilization
In the hands of coffee makers
they complete a magic transformation
by bringing the chaotic unconscious of nature
into the human world ----
bright acidity
sun-dried aromas  
fruit flavors  
undertones of wine
as if the infinite wholeness of nature
falls into our coffee cups
trapped in the wondrous dark liquid
pressed into the narrowness
of human consciousness  
and explodes in us
an elixir almost
too strong for human bodies
unleashing a flood of energy that
tells us that…

we are more than we know

It must have been long
since I was stranded here
for the dusk too dense to hold
and the coffee too cold to drink

A book at hand, pages turned
as if I am an intruder
into reading of another me
by waking up, in this empty cafe

A feeling of deja vu
I've been here before, yes
it's the sidewalk I pass by every day
but in that world, I never see a cafe there

Dusk lapses into night
a streetlamp lits up overhead
little flying bugs drop on my lap
Time to go, I rise to leave

Startled, I pause halfway
fallen leaves pile up at the corner
just as I saw them in the day
someone swept them into a lovely cone

but with a closer look, I find
instead of autumn leaves
they are red lobsters
stacked high into a small hill  

as red,      
as flaming flames

Even
the most modest tree  
is more beautiful
than the grandest
man-made structure

for no one can determine
how its limbs twist and turn
how its leaves hum and sing
a beauty same as our own
a certain destiny,
unfettered pathways

Each tree is marvelous, as
a palace of uncertainty
with every passageway
winding up to Sky
not a calculated trajectory  
but a path as wave --
a song, or a flowing stream

as if from earth to heaven
by choosing from infinite possibilities
it gives rise to beauty and form
& creates the reality of its own

The city is strangely grey            
as though seen through color filter                      
that adds apocalyptic tone to everything ---                        
stern architectures on sides of the street                        
vehicles that make road silently busy                          
I walk a while                          
and then pause at a taxi stop                                  
People slowly gather around me                  
like a flock of black crows            
huddling on withered winter branches                      
Anxiety begins to pile up while I wait              
hopelessly                    
for a cab to pull over                        
and take me back to my own reality                          
A block away                          
next to the street bistro                          
a misty harbor stretches                            
in the face of an ocean        
where vast expanse of nihility        
takes the place of fathomable water    
                            
A road sign indicates:        
Here is the end of time

winter's virginity                
losing to Spring 's eagerness                  
seasons cycle on    

dead cicadas,                
mail from the eternity:                
Summer is closing  

crunchy leaves underfoot              
golden biscuits, freshly baked              
oh, crispy Autumn

a leaf shivers in wind                    
giving away her secret desire          
to leave in Winter