There you are my muse
in the nook of my soul,
looking out for my god
dressed in my faith and hope.
How the silence of your mien
perpetuates through my afternoon,
is to my indignation not;
it is the fuel stirring
my affair with solitude.
I delight in your fine expression
-- coy, playful, full of conviction,
yet unpredictable.
You carry the eyes
watered with spring and summer,
and direct which to mine;
and for that, so grateful I am.
Despite all the nuisances
dangling and screaming around,
you remain calm and steadfast,
only to breathe with me,
to sleep in our own pulses
and be swayed by our simple happiness.
I catch the phrases
let out from your foliage
-- young, smiling, and still wading
in the ruffled air and storms.
I love you.
Image: Toa Payoh, Singapore
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