CY@CY Says Welcome to my dreamscape. Where a Lim is also a Ling.

I stand quietly still in the midst of the forest Waiting for bird calls.

Put on a brave front But soon reality hit home My facade crumbled.

Fifty nine years old Too young to be an orphan God so loved my mum.

Two little durians Tiny in size they may be Wait till you smell them.

The heat fills the air Sweat streams down in rivulets Rain would be a gift.

Woke up from my sleep A mosquito on my cheek Having its nightcap.

Aching loneliness Heart yearning for company Sadness in full bloom.

A handwritten note Inviting me to join them In fear I burned it. P/S The note was trying to convince me to join the communist movement in the early 1970s when I was in lower secondary school at Kai Chung Middle School in Bintangor.

My old Chinese book Finding my pinyin writing In the book’s margins.

The water lily adds colours to the dull pond A blissed out flower