Back in Xinxiang
the coffee tastes good.
'The Carpenters' are signing about love,
which becomes lost in time.
Never to be smooth again.

Deep inside, a spring longing.
A shadow still wedged between the rocks, and the rising spring river.
Seared into my aching bones.
Always to linger,
and never to be free.

The music stops, it always does.
Vaguely, I hear a sound....
        ..... a sweet voice
..... a distant voice
“Come close, and follow me.....”

Pulled into a violet world,
surrounded by the noise of our origin.
I see you...
and my unfinished flight.