晴空一鹤排云上，
便引诗情到碧霄。
A crane soars above the clouds and soars high,
Lifts my poetic heart up to the azure sky.
— Liu Yuxi 刘禹锡 (772-842)
Autumn Words
Leave a reply
Tag Archives: #poetry
The Messenger
The messenger fractures the dawn,
arriving without a message.
Light is stranded
in the hollow of the collarbone.
We watch the moment rehearse its own extinction
Flame alone, the compass;
Sparks alone, our stories.
–Jujube
The Sea
I need the sea because it teaches me.
I don’t know if I learn music or awareness,
if it’s a single wave or its vast existence,
or only its harsh voice or its shining
suggestion of fishes and ships.
The fact is that until I fall asleep,
in some magnetic way I move in
the university of the waves.
— Pablo Neruda
Wait
The beast of night, lost in silence.
In its eyes, an unnamed sea.
The boy’s breath settles among moss
The compass sleeps inside the backpack.
We sit side by side,
a footnote to the forest,
waiting for a shooting star
to point the way
to the spring we lost.
–Jujube
Room
The window hold the chill outside,
Muted red and gray-blue laze upon the bed,
clinging to the warmth she left behind.
Books bear the weight of her thoughts,
growing in every direction.
The orange cat kneads silence into a ball,
and buries it deep inside a purr.
— Jujube
Bird
The moon dictates the palette.
Bare branches write down the theme.
Time thins to a single breath.
Only a red note,
a small refusal,
betrays the world’s lingering warmth.
–Jujube
Afternoon Tea
the ceramic holds its breath
let the flowers define the air
sweetened conversations
linger in the shadows
asking the empty chairs
who decides
what moment lasts
–Jujube
Early Winter Woods
The early winter woods are a letter
Torn open by the wind
Script scatters on the ground
Shifting, recombining
Sunlight hesitates among the branches
Weaving threads of gray
Trying to string together a plot
Only to read
Two silent ellipses
— Jujube
Light on Water
In the hush of shadows,
the pond tries to remember
who it was mirroring.
Like the white and red blooms,
we live for a moment of illumination—
then return
to where light cannot follow.
— Jujube
Without Ceremony
You move through a whisper,
loosening from its own name.
Birds rise. Grass bends.
The sun hesitates.
We are not what we once were—
the field knows this.
It gives you back to the wind,
without ceremony.
— Jujube
Unusual Colors - Digital and AI art 