Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Wild goose

Wild Goose

I once had a future. I gave it up to pursue the ghost of love.

Your fault, my Dear. You're the wild goose I chase.

What's to be done, when a flirtation becomes an obsession?

Pray for me, people of the world from your various rows and pews,

your prayer rugs and tatamis. I'm lost data that can't be retrieved.

O Beloved, You know my words are just love patter to draw Your ear closer to my hungry lips.

O child of God, remembrance is a method of liberation. You can't seem to get the Beloved out of your head.

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