We can't know why the lily has so brief a time to bloom
in the warmth of sunlight's kiss upon its face.

Before it folds its fragrance in
and bids the world good night to rest its beauty in a gentler place.

But we can know that nothing that is ever loved is ever really lost,
and no one who has ever really touched a heart can really pass away
because some beauty lingers on
in each memory of which they've been a part.

Author: Ellen Brenneman

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Isomnia






A teardrop fell upon my hand,
another followed soon.
I watched and saw them meet and blend.

Each single drop of tear it seems
was wrung out from my heart.
The pain, the ache, the silent screams,
in tears seem to depart.
And emptiness is all that's left.


 Coco, 您好嗎?

媽媽這幾天晚上也睡不著,
總是想念著您。

家中很冷,
縱使穿上棉襖,
蓋上兩張棉被,
仍是很冷。

洗澡的時侯看到您的盤子,
眼淚又不自禁的流下來。

這幾天,
Momo 都躺在大門前您最愛的貓貓地氈上,
Casper 和 Tiger 還是常常在您門外徘徊,
而我,
仍是提不起勇氣走進您的房間。



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