I look for you along the empty streets
– they’re actually chaotic streets, but somehow empty –
and I’m looking to be filled
© Meisaan Chan
I look for you along the empty streets
– they’re actually chaotic streets, but somehow empty –
and I’m looking to be filled
© Meisaan Chan
It’s been a while since we talked.
I can tell. I’m anxious, small-minded, confused:
I brewed some coffee, have two mugs.
Come, sit down: come.
© Meisaan Chan
Empty inside
under-skin-hollow
so much horrid space
© Meisaan Chan
At the bottom comes sweetness,
like honey in a cup of tea, says the Lord;
do not be afraid of coming to the end
for I have readied that, too
© Meisaan Chan
First, the work of abandon
then, the gentle repose, as it should be –
for the act of struggling is its own burden
for the act of trusting is its own delight
© Meisaan Chan
Comfort, O little one
it might be deepest winter
but you are well protected
© Meisaan Chan
(Photo credit: National Geographic)
Mountain of work crushes like a landslide
and there I am, digging out with a spoon,
freshness ebbing away
© Meisaan Chan
It is time, says the Lord,
to move out of safety and into adventure
© Meisaan Chan
It is not time yet, says the Lord,
so relax for a moment, gather your strength
© Meisaan Chan