rain
sunshine
change

yes
no
maybe

barren fields and trees
I have lost my ikigai
empty is my soul

she sits on the floor
crosslegged
trying to calm
her mind
as she cannot decide
whether she really
is a poet
or just imagining
to be a poet

her life
has become
meaningless
and full of
boredom

but maybe
her life
never had any
meaning and
excitement

looking
at her life
she notices
her constant
fear to engage

I look at her
and realize
that she cannot decide
when it is appropriate
to stop supporting others
and begin supporting herself

tomorrow will bring
a new and better day
she thinks full of hope
and decides to fall asleep

late at night
and cold
sitting up in bed
awake
loud and doubtful
thoughts

dog
walk
joy

thoughts
dreams
confusion

“you have not”
she looks at me surprised

“I have”
is my reply

“but you are just not the type of person
who writes poems”
she exclaims

you urge me
to let go of my fears
to be myself  and
live my dreams

I wonder
if you would still love me
if I really was myself
and not just your idea of myself

she looks at
the vivid sunset
and realises
that him leaving her
was a good outcome

we have to go back
to normal
he says

do you mean
my normal or your normal
she asks

celebrating fall
yellow leaves and misty sky
warmth and love at home

moving
forgetting
empowering

blue scarf
red scarf
yellow scarf
expressions of
joy and happiness
worn by me
dancing with you

kindness
caring
you

night
sleep
healing

when I was a child
I knew
what I needed
to do
to become a painter:
paint

as I grew up
my power of doing
was replaced by fear
and I stopped painting

why is helping her
not good for her
he asks in despair

I feel sorry for him
as he cannot see
that helping her
destroys her growth

green tea
black tea

always for you
and never for me

why was he
allowed to do the project
but I was not

why was he
given the job
but I was not

why does he
live in a big house
but I do not

why do I
not want to know
the answers
to these questions

every morning
she makes coffee

carefully grinding the beans
has become a ritual
time spent in meditation
on a journey she had not expected

when there are no beans left
in the grinder
she sighs
as reality has caught up with her

sunshine
you
perfect

happiness at last
dancing in the rain and mist
smiling at the moon

I want to paint
but I have no colours

I want to write
but I cannot find my pen

I want to sing
but I lost my voice

I want to run away
but I do not know where it is safe

So I do nothing
and everything stays the same

“Good Morning!”
She smiles.

“Good Morning!”
He frowns, irritated that
he was disturbed when tweeting.

will you wait
he asks

maybe
she answers

chocolate
wine
coping

leaves are turning red
birds are on their journey home
distant sense of joy

why are you and daddy
always arguing
the little girl asks
her mother

we are not arguing
her mother answers
we are just exploring
different opinions

midnight
stillness
wakefulness

making bread
helps me
to connect
with myself

kneading the dough
tells me
that persistence
is key
to achieving my goals

taking the bread
out of the oven
is a ritual that tells me
that all will be fine

smile
she said
and picked up
the broken cup
a  smile can mend
whatever is broken

from the safety of her home
she watches people passing by
and wonders whether
she should go out

observing people‘s behaviour
she painfully realises
that they are seemingly oblivious
to the dangers of the virus

so she sighs and decides to stay at home

we planned to meet
but were both too busy
and could not find
a convenient time

now we are in lockdown
and I do not know
when we are allowed
to meet again

I am sad and wonder
if it was wise
to choose being busy
over seeing a friend

they say:
you are what you read

I must be a hopeless romantic

I always thought
I knew who I was
but not being able
to leave the house
gives me the space
to discover myself

black
white
really

she does not write
he is concerned
her words had given
him pleasure
a sense that
he was not alone
her sudden silence
intensely saddens him

man
woman
deceit

waiting
today
tomorrow

knit knit purl knit
her needles clink
her fingers race
knit knit purl knit
no time to think
she found her pace
knit knit purl knit

rainy and bleak town
smileless faces rushing past
sadness engulfs me

what does it mean
when a man says
I love you
the little girl asks

it is meaningless
her mother replies

she picks up
her phone
and reads
his message:
darling,
arrived in Shanghai,
hot and rainy,
busy schedule,
can’t call every day,
see you
next week

she sighs
and wipes
a tear
from her cheek
as she remembers
smelling
the other woman’s
perfume
when he kissed her
on his return
from Shanghai

I see
you smile
when you
talk to
your cat

I sense
your joy
when you
look into
her eyes

I feel
your love
when you
gently call
her name

I wonder
why I never
see you
talking to people
with so much
passion and joy

sleep
he
says

I am not tired
she
responds

whatever
I attempt
is discredited

whenever
I try to help
I am pushed away

if whatever
I do
is wronged
why
am I still doing it