as a kid
there's nothing
like wasting away inside a tiny
room
sitting on the backrest
of the couch
looking out the window
and seeing her
tread through the rain

a red umbrella covers
her.

Mother

she's going back
to the liquor store

The wind, the messenger of rain.
The trees, the wind chimes of nature.
The rain, the nectar of every life.
The birds, the stars of the day sky.
The soil, grains of ancestral remains.
The mountains, giant sleeping elephants.

We,
The beautiful moon,
The moonlit cloudy sky,
The gentle breeze,
And Me.
We are waiting on my terrace,
For you.

And over time,
My pen stopped bleeding
But my heart didn't