The Poet's Notebook (2013)

7/27/2019 The Poet's Notebook (2013)

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The PoeTs

Notebook:

A Compilation of Poems(2006 - 2012)

Seymour Nightweaver


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The Poets NotebookA gift from a friendseen and bought

from a faraway land,now made into a chest

empty, but patiently waitingto be slowly filled up

by the most precious jewelsthat these bare handsever wrought.

Priceless lifelong gemsto be discovered and appraised

in years and years to comebut no merchants scales

nor sharp jeweller's tools

will ever scratch their surfacefor none of these can ever rob away

the worth of who I amdivinely sealed

with ink on these papersand in the caverns of my heart

as well as on every grainthat falls in Times hourglass.

Date written: 3rd August 2011


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Special Thanks:Rebecca Koay

Esther Hooi Chee MeiGenevie Loo

Gina YapDebra Wong

jeya (mediamilitia.com)...and the many others who has proofread, showed their heartfelt support

and helped out with this book as well as being a part of my life and journey

that made this whole book possible.And of course,to Jesus Christ -

the Author and the Finisher of my faith,who was already there, patiently waiting

right from the very beginning...

(U) Uncopyright, 2013All contents in this book can be used or altered in any manner

without attribution or notice to myself (even for commercial

purposes), though attribution is always appreciated.

Blog: rippling-ripples.blogspot.comFacebook Page: www.facebook.com/rippling.ripples

Email: [email protected]


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Table of Contents...i. Abrams Calling pg. 5

The Daughters of Eden pg. 11Music pg. 13

ii. The Nightweaver pg. 16The Seventh Month pg. 20

iii. Where Morning Glories Bloom pg. 21Stronger pg. 24Ocean Waves pg. 25A Rainbow Among The Clouds pg. 26

The Cicada pg. 27iv. Something About Her pg. 28

The Guiding Light pg. 31


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(Continued...)v. Memorial Place (Pilgrimage's End) pg. 32

Just For You: A Cup of Spring Wine pg. 35The Wine of Summer: A Harvest pg. 37

vi. A Song To Remember pg. 39Where Were You? pg. 42

vii. Beyond The Horizon pg. 43My Epitaph pg. 46Every Gift Has A Story pg. 48

viii. Final Words From The Poet pg. 51


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Abrams Calling

I do not really know

the way I ought to takeneither do I know

the place where I will be meetingYou who called my name

whom Ive never seen before.Neither do I know

how long will it takeor would I even make it

to that unknown secret placewhere I will finally meet, face-to-face

the purpose behind my existence.I do not even know the reason

behind this untold longingor why I pursue it

but I know I must get thereI know I must,

because I know deep insideI am made to be there.

***


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Just like how You first called Abramthis was how You first called me.

Faith I knew not,neither did I know

who You were,but when I first saw Your face

after a journeyof years through the wilderness

immediately I knewIt was You.(That is how

my journey first began)

Date written: 25th June 2011


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Five years ago, I was a totally different person.With absolutely no knowledge about Jesus, I was raised in a Taoist-Buddhist environment. All my life, I was only taught to

unquestionably obey the traditions of my family and worship the

spirits of our ancestors as well as the temple idols that stoodbefore me.Since childhood, I was constantly reminded to revere the gods andfear the existence of evil spirits. I was also taught to work hard inlife, and pray to the idols so that they would bless me with myneeds, comfort and luxuries such as good results, fortune, a goodwife and prosperity. The smoke of joss sticks, the oil lamps and the

burning of paper money were elements that I was once familiar

with in the past - elements of religion that became the centre ofmy spiritual life.I always thought that the life I knew back then was all thatexisted......but that itself, was the problem.Because all these never gave me the answer to my existence.Why was I born?Why school?Why do I have to marry and start a family?Why do I even live if all there is at the end of the day is only

death?Why even bother working so hard and wasting so many resourcesif that is all there is?These were the questions that were constantly lingering in mymind back then - and ever since then, I began questioning.

I began questioning the obligations and the expectations that were

placed upon me by society. I questioned the way this worldoperated, especially when all I see was just money, and moremoney.


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I questioned the purpose of living and the reason for existence.That was the period when I began to identify myself to theintrovert side of me. It was also then when I found that inner side

of me where I often retreated in trying to shut off the noises anddistractions of the outside world.That was also the time when I started reflecting upon my thoughtsand actions, picking up and realising things that I had overlookedin my life.I began looking back reevaluating and remembering again thethings that had happened, how and why it had happened, as well

as their outcomes...and it was also then when for the first time, God gently led medown a path where all the pieces began to come together and

started to make sense.Like a video recorder, things and events began to unwind andrewind again in my mind. I began to see a chain of occurrences

and a network of event that kept everything intact - noticing howone event interweaved with many others in order to connect to thenext.How everything that I have, both my strengths and even myflaws, have made me into the person I am today. How my

blessings have given me some of the things I would not haveobtained otherwise, and how all the bad and horrible things thathappen in the past have made me a stronger person.I began to see life to unfold itself and how much I had learned,gained and grown while being alive, no matter how good or badlife was at that moment.Everything that I once thought was coincidental was suddenly notas what they first seemed to me, and the story of my life suddenlybegan to appear to me as a linear plot.I began to see how everything was put together and beautifullyorganised like a plot of a story - as if all that had happened in mylife so far had all been mapped out and decided right from the


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very beginning...as if there was really someone who was behind all these,directing and piecing everything together.It was on that night when I unknowingly received my firstrevelation of the God who was behind my life and existence. My lifewas never a string of coincidences. It was planned, and everythinghad been mapped out so well that I could never rule out the

possibility of a God being in control of my life......But more than that, it was also from that moment when I beganto live my life with a renewed sense of hope and spirit - because Ifinally came to my realisation that my life was no longer worthless.

I knew now that my life had a meaning and a purpose to it, and Iexisted because I was meant to discover and fulfil it.

***Many things had happened since then.Five years later during a late night worship, God spoke to me again

about what happened on that night.

He walked through with me again on those memories of how I first

knew Him, and God began to speak to me:Wilson,When I first called Abram from the comforts of his home into thewilderness of Canaan, this was what he went through back then.He did not knew who I was, neither did he know where he washeading. I did not even reveal to him my Name. But he stillobediently walked with Me, taking each step by faith and believedin the promises that I gave him. There was no law in the past.Neither was there a prophet nor a divine scripture to guide him,

but I sustained him with My grace - and in the end, I credited himas righteous before My eyes.Wilson,This was also how I first called you. You did not know Me at first,


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but I was the one who revealed Myself to you. It was not by yourmight and knowledge that got you this far, but Mine.On that night, I remembered again Gods faithfulness and grace.My love for God was refreshed and renewed, and in the midst of

intimate worship and uncontrollable weeping, these wordssuddenly began to form in my mind:

Just like how You first called Abramthis was how You first called me

That was how it all began.


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The Daughters of EdenThe beloved parent

who brought us into this worldclothed and fed us

during our early yearsand whom we turned towhen we hurt our knee,

had a hole to patchor just wanted loving affection.

The annoying siblingwho cries and complains

at the slightest fuss,whose spoiled nature adoredat the cost of your dismay-

who will then matureand know the answers to the problems

you could never solve on your own.The opposite halfwho sometimes leaves us baffled

with her fancies and cravingsand turbulent emotional cyclesbut a companion she will be

who will be therein times of great need a trusted friend, indeedand who will ever know

which one it will bewhom you will tie the knot

and spend your remaining life with?


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Whether a friend or sistera stranger or colleague,your dearest beloved

or even your nagging mother,each possesses a jewelof incomparable value

a share of their inheritanceas the beautiful daughters of Eden

that you can always seewhen they adorn it in their eyes

as their faces lit upand gleam with unspeakable joy

true beauty unveiledin the moment of worshipas they meet face to face

with the Lover of their soulssitting by His feet

like sweet innocent Magdaleneand re-living the days of the Gardenwhen God walked with his beloved.

Date written: 21st June 2011


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MusicPeople look at mewhen I ask for headphones(The music player was down)They gave them to me anywayand I wore it on my head,the wire dangling in the air.Where is your iPhone,Where is your MP3 what music do you hear? (Pause)I wish I could

but I can never really plugthat wire into my soul.

***For the music that I hearis not from Justin Biebernor those other commercial songsthat everyone is crazy about.My songs have nothing to dowith popular celebrity worship,but its tune will always liveeven when all things come to passMy music is never about moneyor the many things man would seekNeither is it sung for fameor by attention-seeking addicts,but it is one that only those who knowthe greatest mystery of it allwill sing it with all their livesfor nothing that comes from their mouth

will ever be sweeter than it.


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It is not a song for the hedonistswho only hungerfor the pleasures of the earfrom the consumerist capitalists,but it is a song for the lostthat hope is never farand a song for the foundwhose joy is in their Home.It is a songthat sings of Love,sings of you and meand of everyone else on earth,and the worth of every self.It sings of the universeit sings of time and space,sings of everything in existence:from the Heavens and the cloudsto the ants on the ground,from the cornerstones of the galaxyto the very depths of our heartand our hidden hurts and secrets.A song beyond words,a song beyond soundwhose ripples can still resoundin the midst of stagnant silence,a song beyond the rhythmsof convention, principle and lawand a song beyond beautifulfor Beauty, is what it is about.


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A song that beganwhen everything came to beand a song that will never endeven when all is beyond dust- Such was the music I heardthat endlessly echoed within:The Music of All Music,One with no comparison.

Date written: 4th October 2011


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The NightweaverFrom the darkness

I rise

Never felt so aliveas I awaken from my slumber.

My heart and soulrevived,

dancing alongsidethe rippling melody of the songs

played to soothe my earsMy lungs welcomethe chilly night air

Inspiration in every breath,feeding, nourishingmy yearning spirit.

Raven black wings stretched,a silhouette of darknessDeceiving prying eyesas I soar in the skies

For to many, I am a creature of enigma.Rarely people wanderdeep into my caverns

For they cant really seewhat truly lies,

deep inside the darkness.


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More fail to understandthat darkness is my guide

From it, I learnthe meaning of appreciation

From it, I appreciatethe warmth of the loving

From it, I lovethe passion of discovery

And deep in its core, I discoverHis guiding, and His light.

I amthe Nightweaver

I weave bundles of memories,spools of knowledge,strings of emotion,tapestries of words-

an art most admirable.The moon shining, polishing

the pen my needleArise shall my passionin its revitalising glow

As I soar, bathing in moonlightTo weave, my next creation

Date written: 24th April 2008


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I only added Nightweaver to my pseudonym after the day Iwrote this poem.Years back, I was a totally different person, and both this poemand my pseudonym reminded me of whom I was back then.I was one who drew my best from the darkness and the stillness ofthe night. It was there where I found my inner home.For a period in my life, my writing revolved around those silentmoments of solitude. It was in this small and mysterious cocoon ofmine where I first grew and learnt more about myselfHowever, things change, and the person who I am in the past has

grown into someone different, especially during the past four and ahalf years of my life.Until this very day, I still return to that old shell of mine from time

to time. It is still a rejuvenating and nurturing experience for me todraw inspiration from those peaceful nocturnal moments especially in times when I am seeking peace and solace, or that I

am just wanting to rest or pause from my daily life.It is still a shelter I sometimes return to especially when I needto hide while recovering from the wounds of lifes disappointments.However, I no longer made darkness my master.Seymour Nightweaver I still am, but today... I desire to outgrowmy own wells of self-pity and trenches of depressive low self-

worth. I desire to learn to embrace and accept the dark shadows of

my life, and at the same time, to learn to no longer cling untothem.With Christ, I have been made whole and complete. No longer do Ineed to feel inferior or worthless with myself. No longer do I seethe need for me to hold feelings of hatred or resentment againstanybody and even to those who have brought so many hurts anddisappointment into my life long ago.And neither do I want to hate myself and the flaws within me anylonger for it is through all my hurts, flaws and imperfections thatGods glory and purpose have been magnified in my life beyond my


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wildest imagination.Such, is the beauty that I desire to weave as the Nightweaver Abeauty of its very kind:

A beauty that comes from one who has lived in and is nowoutliving the darkness of his life...One who has seen brokenness in his life and has come out alive toshow others what it means to love and live a grace-filled life

And one, who desires to be light, because he has seen lightHimself, so that many others can see it as well...and know that there is such a thing call hope in this world ofdarkness.


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The Seventh MonthJoss sticks and candles

offered with foodby the quiet roadside

as paper money burnedin front of amulet-covered doors

to please the deadand the feared roaming spirits.

Here am I, walkingon an hour many avoid

singing songs, praising with lovefearing nothingeven of those -

what might lurk in the darkand still find peace

for there is no reason to fear While walking past the fire

leaving behindthose rituals of the pastthat I have long abandoned

since the day I rose into lifefrom beneath those worthless ashes.

Date written: 2nd August 2011


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Where Morning Glories BloomAngels disguised, as winged insects

fluttering around the guestswho ventured deep within

to the edge of humans' graspcalled civilisation,

an hours worth of journeyto where the morning glories bloom

at the end of a trailof a call so divine.

Wealths absence seenas darkness engulfs

and night mocks the homeswhere light is found wanting

but grace abounds morewhen nature unveils herself

and makes her provisions her ownHonoured, by the generous hosts

with exotic offerings of monkey meat.

The small old chapelwaited for them all

to be opened for small worship;Villagers feasted

on a humble, simple dinner,enriching their hearts

in communion with their brethren,who joyfully they received

with dancing and lively music.


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Gods presence unceasinglike the lively Sungai Lerek

full of force and lifeupon His simple peaceful beings

who lack many but this;In the village our feet have stepped

where morning glories bloomand refuse to shy away

all day long.

Date written: 13th March 2011


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This poem was written during my first mission trip to minister toan Orang Asli settlement.The encounter with the Semoi people only lasted for two days butfor me, the experience was a total eye-opener. Being given the

opportunity to live, eat and even bathe in the same river with theSemoi people, I learned for myself how it felt like to be living asone of them. It was truly a humbling experience to learn and

observe the simplicity of their way of life that was previously veryforeign to me.To be so close to nature, feeling the abundance of overflowing lifein the clean waters, while butterflies were fluttering above amongthe canopies and tame dragonflies were resting on my fingers.They were so different than me in many ways, yet at the sametime, all of us could still come together and worship God as a Bodyin a small Methodist chapel.Throughout my stay with them, I experienced tranquillity. I alsoenjoyed a period of peace and rest from the hectic and tiring citylife as well as a moment to ponder about the things we truly lack

while being in the midst of all the luxury and technologicalconveniences.There were no internet and no electricity in the village and eventhe phone was barely usable. Yet, I could see God moving throughmother nature and making His dwelling among the Semoi people in

a way I had never seen before. It was a totally different form ofspirituality, making its home in the hearts of the Semoi people, aplace where modernisation has only made a vague foothold on.During that trip, I observed. I learnedAnd I also grew.PS: And I was not joking that it was there where I first discovered

how monkey meat tasted like.


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StrongerSee my scars,

See my wounds,All over the placeFar from perfect;

...Just like anyone.Cracks and wrinkles

Run all overLike the trunk of a tree -

Like any tree in any forest,Battered by rain and wind.

Baby days long lost

Cheated away by the world;The frost who kills and steals

From every tree in every forest,But my roots run deep,

Deep in my father's wombAnd my leaves are not blind

Fed by the Sun above...I shall live.

Day, or night,Stronger with every storm-

Like how it has always been.

Date written: 28th October 2012Note:A poem I wrote for myself for my 23rd birthday.


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A Rainbow Among The CloudsA beautiful rainbow

among bleak gloomy cloudsseen, sitting by a window

in this crowded buslooking out, to the world outside

with a pair of lovely eyesand a smile more charming

than the graceful evening light.So near, yet so far such are the whispers

of this silent weatherwho draws with words

and colours dreams on paperas he continues to gaze on

and admire the mesmerizing beautyof a rainbow among the clouds.

***Continue to smile,

because you will never knowwhen your smile...

will be a blessing to another.

Date written: 28th May 2011Note:This poem was inspired and specially written for Mei Hong (),

the Beautiful Rainbow, on the day she returned to Macau.May God be with you in everything you do.


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The CicadaThe unfamiliar tunesperiodically hauntingthese empty caverns

except for myselfand the unbroken silence -coming from high abovea direction once unknown

lure my senses, rearoused.The paths in the dark -

unseen, yet familiar

now feel strangely distantas if I am a strangereven to my own self

and the damp dark soilI have been calling my home

since seasons and years behind***

Never know what time has broughtwould bring me up and outfrom the world I once knew

into the light of realityand the song of life

that I am now a part of,carrying my own music

that I will retune and refineas I fly in the streams of time

with my new-found wingssearching for the destiny

that I have been made forwhen I first breathed life

deep in the earths dark core

Date written: 7

th

May 2011


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Something about HerAt half past six every morning,

Im already awake, but still yawning;

I stand by the roadside, yearning,But it isnt the bus that I'm waiting.I turned behind and there she was,

Waiting with me, for the lagging bus;Listening to her morning buzz, I was,

It had no full stops but a lot of commas. One thing I enjoy is talking to her,

Every morning, we're full of laughter;Though I hope it'll last forever,

Be late for school, I would never!

At last school ended and I felt lethargic,

Add Math, Physics and Chemistry, I was pathetic;As I boarded the bus, it felt like magic,She was there and I was now energetic.

Whenever I need her, shes always there,All my fuss and problems I would share;

Shell cool me down when my tension flares,Cheering me up is what she cares.

Theres something about her I always wonder,Whenever shes around, my problems drift;She calms my soul and keeps me inspired,

How does she do it? I always ponder.


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I have no idea but there is something,Something special and yet exciting;

Its so mysterious it keeps me thinking,What she has while others are lacking.

Though I dont know what is the answer,I must stop writing Im running out of paper;Will I find out the answer? It doesnt matter,Whatever happens, shes my friend forever.

Date written: 9th April 2006


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This is the first poem I have ever written.It was from the date when this poem was first written when Istarted embarking on the journey of a poet, which happenedduring one of my Accounting tuition classes in Form Five.It all began with just a single phrase, and for no particular reasonI just wrote the second phrase on the next line.It was from there when I began rhyming and ended up with thefirst stanza. The rest soon followed, giving birth to this once freshartistic revelation.It was a poem filled with the innocence and naivety of my youth.

One that was brought into life by the shallow feelings of ateenagers childish infatuation.It was also a reflection of who I was before I began writing poetry,

and this poem was also an indication that showed how different Iwas ever since then... and how much I had changed ever since.A true story of innocence which eventually became the trigger tothe beginning of a great metamorphosis.

All began, almost naturally. Fully planned and intended.


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The Guiding LightYou came into the room with a candlelight,And saw me sitting at the darkest corner;

You took my hand and held it tight,As you guided me out from my prison chamber.

You taught me the meaning of knowledge and virtue,And gave me the seeds of inspiration;

You showed me the world from a birds eye view,And filled my soul with determination.

Now as I look upon myself with Times mirror,

I could barely remember my pasts reflection;You have waken me up from my deep stupor,

And lightened my path with education.Its almost time for me to spread my wings,

And embark myself on a never-ending journey;I shall remember your definition of a human being,And all the petty little things you teach to many.Though each passing day, your candle shortens,Its flame of dedication will never go any dimmer;

And like the many others you have gracefully enlightened,The light shall guide me in my heart forever.

Date written: 6th May 2006


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Memorial Place(Pilgrimages End)

Lapping waves

by the rocky shorea sound of peace

from the calm restless sea.A maiden pilgrim standsgazing at the distance

the darkness beyond the horizons unlocking her heart

and releasing caged memoriesnow flying away

from the tall standing pillarsby the sapphire edge

now marking the resting placeof Reminiscences final fragment

buried beneath the earthfrom where it birthed and bloomed.

1st October 2011.

Date written: 2nd October 2011


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On the first of October, she requested me to take her to a certainplace by the seaside. I did not know what was in her mind at thatmoment but as if I was guided by a sense of intuition, I knew Ineeded to bring her there

***It was half a year ago when I found out that she broke up with herfirst boyfriend. It was a hard moment for her, a period filled withpainful memories and disappointments, but she managed to pickherself up again. It was also from that moment where she decidedto embark on a small and personal journey where she literallywent back and visited almost every significant place she had been

throughout her relationship with her ex, recollecting her memoriesand saying a final goodbye to each of them before moving on withher life.From the way she was describing the journey to me, I understoodit as a pilgrimage of some sort. I could visualise her embarkingon a journey with God on an adventure filled with moments ofreflections, healing and restorations...and I was there with her at the final destination of herpilgrimage.What I saw on that night by when we were both by the edge of thesea finally made me understood the emotional and spiritual turmoilthat she had gone through during the past six months, and howshe had changed and matured throughout that period. It was onlythen when I finally saw the full beauty behind the plans God had asHe worked in her through this painful season.A scarred, but beautiful masterpiece.As I listened to the sound of the unceasing waves and the whisper

of the ocean breeze, I found myself touched by what God had donein her life. It was during that moments of finale when I suddenlycaptured that very essence I eventually used to craft this poem as a beautiful tribute and dedication to my friend, signifying the

end of her journey... and also as a fitting offering to God, praising

Him for His finished work and unending faithfulness.


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Truly, I was struck with both awe and admiration for His work as Istood there and listened to all He had done and knowing that I

had been given the privilege to be there just before the curtainbeautifully closedI just cant help but to praise Him with all I have.Definitely one of my most rewarding moments of being a writer,who ebbs and flows with the waves of the Lord.


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Just For You: A Cup of Spring WineTo the friend who reminded me

of how short time can sometimes be;To the friend whose grace I gain

when I give, is but grief and pain;This is for you. Just for you.

***From sunset to sunrise

I have made it through,The gentle sun arises

as darkness departs, in the wake of light.The morning song stirred the fawnawake, in the presence of Spring

Birds twittered in the light of dawnmerrily celebrating, the brand new bloom.

Life bathing in the chilly raindancing behind the misty veil;Soft ripples washed away pain

long endured, through white winter.This new season, all shall rejoice!

Garden resowed, with hope and promise;The soil cheered for the praising voiceknowing the harvest that it will bear.

***


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May I with God, ever fruitfulas His hands laid upon the vines;

Pray for coming harvests be sweet and flavourfullike this cup before you, the wine of your seeds.

Let the fruits aboundwhile my days are still present;Let my banquets always be filled

with joy and laughter, and mellowed wine.And when you return again, one Summer daymay Future taste far sweeter than Present;

I will save the best for that special dayto be poured out, toasted, and celebrated

With you, and;Just for you.

Date written: 27th May 2009


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The Wine of Summer: A HarvestThe chirping birdsin the summer sky

stir awakes memoriesonce drowned,

by the slow, peaceful flowof the gentle stream of Time.

A seasons hard workalmost forgotten,

preoccupiedby three years worth

of everyday hustle

but the sower still remembersthe promise he once made.This is for you. Just for you.

***The noble song

of the evening forestfreely echoes

to the far reachesof her sovereign ruleAnd here, a traveller

resting beneath the shadeshis soul drifts away

losing itselfin a sentimental union

with a beauty so majestic.


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Life gazes at the crystal flowand age remembers its younger days

of paths long troddenand of scars absent, forgotten

As this season continueswith countless rejoicing

giving thanks for the plumpnessof ripened hope and promise

from the soil now ladenwith ever-ceaseless harvest.

***May Gods favour be found

in His servants daily mannaPray still for the harvests be filled with lifes flavours

like the cup before you, the wine of your seeds.Let blessings continue to pour

to all while I am still able.Let Christ continue to reign, and lead my every way

So all who seek Life, can taste the joyful wine.

A vacant seat awaits, for the day you take your placeas the guest of honour of your friends grand banquet

and the best shall be poured on this special dayto be toasted and celebrated, and an offering to be made.

With you; and,Just for you.

Date written: 3rd October 2011PS: To this friend, whom I have made my promise... A toast ofmellowed wine.Soli Deo Gloria.


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A Song To RememberYou are my strength,my place of shelter

- and I shall never feareven when the storm is brewingbecause You are always with me

by my very side.As great as the distance

between the sky and the earth,such is the measure of Your love

so fill our hearts to the brim- we who have longing heartsto worship You, Lord Jesus.

As great as the distancebetween the sky and the earth

such is the measure of Your love You are God,

You are my strengthMy greatest joy and delight.

***


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Engkaulah kekuatankutempat perlindunganku

saat badai menerpaaku tak akan goyahAku tak akan goyahsebab Kau sertaku.

Sejauh langit dari bumibegitu besarnya kasihMu

penuh hati kami yang rindumenyembahMu, Yesus.Sejauh langit dari bumi

begitu besarnya kasihMuKaulah Tuhan, kerkuatanku

sukacitaku.(Lyrics taken from: Engkaulah Kerkuatanku by Robert and Lea)

This poem was specially written to the person who taught me thissong.For the things she did, the patience, the guidance and the graceshe showed me - which have made all the difference. If not for thefootprints she left behind, I would not have found the confidence toaccept myself for who I am and to go this far in life.Specially for you, Jie.


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Where Were You?A stranger lay in silence

drenched in a pool of blood.A fool, many saidbetter off dead

for the shame and disgraceof crumpling his own life

and threw it off the windowfourteen storeys below.

Some shrugged, watching the humour,few spit on the corpse

with lips of puffed up men,while some shook headssighing while they looked away -

all forgetting as they walked,locking the attic door behind

as if nothing had ever happened.***

And here I amwitnessing as a wind

blowing from a distancewhispering to myself,where is everybody

when his heart was brokenand where is love

when all of us know too wellthat none could live without it.

Again,where was everybody

Where were you?

Date written: 12th December 2010Note:A tribute, to Alviss Kong.


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Beyond The HorizonThe skyso fair and bright

adorned with the colours of the rainbow,the wings of soaring birds

and the floating cloudsbearing life-giving rainbringing joy to many

and nourishing, the earth below.

The seaso tranquil and silent

as fishes explore, its deep blue depthsfor treasures unknown, stories untold

and mysteries unseenwhile land dwellers hear its gentle whisper

as its waves crash upon the rockshoping to find, the song they seek.

Here I amwalking along, the sands of dreams

and looking as far as my eyes could reachthe dreamy azure, the longing emerald

and hoping in my heart,for a place and time, beyond the horizonwhere this pair can meet, hold each others hands

and dance, till time can never tell


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When I find that placeand see it, with my very eyes

you will see this poemand with you, we shall go

there we will dwellmaking our lovely home

on this place, where dreams will never fadebeyond the horizon.

Date written: 23rd December 2010


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Have you ever had a dream?A dream with the hope of wanting to be with someone?I had it once.There was a person I was once in love with.We had quite a number of things in common, and there were many

things I admired about her.I thought she was the perfect one for me, and I was constantlydreaming and wondering how it would be if we ever got to betogether and started a family.It was during that time when I this poem was written. I initially

kept this secret from her, wanting to show it to her only when thedreams are finally fulfilled, with both of us finally together in theyears and years to comeHowever, things did not work well as how I thought it would be,and our relationship ended as fast as it started.All the dreams and hopes of being together with her were nolonger there any longer. Mistakes were made and everything justfell apart. There was no longer any chance for us to ever betogether again, but at the end of the day, I knew too well that Iwas better off the way it ended, despite the pain and grief.What was not meant to last should not be lasting any longer than itwas supposed to....But a dream is still a dream, and it is undeniably a beautiful one

made immortal in this very poem.A dream that still has its worth because of the memories it carries,one that is worthy to be admired and appreciated as a part and

parcel of the beautiful life God has given me.


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I thought about my hopes. I thought about my dreams and alsothe kinds of footprints that I want to leave to the people behindme...

And I realised that there can never be a better answer and a

purpose more beautiful than this.So continue to lead my hand, God. To where You want me to be.


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Every Gift Has A StoryEvery gift has a story

every picture a thousand meanings

every life its own purposeevery time with its different seasons.

I looked down the roadas the bride walked down the aisle

what lies aheadwhen each day passes bywhat story would I write

with the breaths God has givenwill I live up to what I am designedas I gaze into my futures shadowsthat lie beyond the clear blue sky

and the vast quiet oceanstanding behind the newlyweds

exchanging vows of commitmentfor their lives brand new chapters.

***Lord,

what lies beyond my daysonly You alone will know

- what liesat the end of every ocean

and the tales the wind bringseach time it comes and goes.

Lord,


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only You alone know all,but because it is You

and knowing who You areI have nothing much to worry.Because with You comes rest

With you, I have peace and joy.With You, my hand is never empty

for You will hold it and lead meto where I am supposed to go.

I will never be lost with Youfor in You I will always be found,

and in You I will always live

for Your heart is where I dwelland Your home is where I will go.

Every gift has a storyevery picture a thousand meanings

every life its very own purposeevery time with its different seasons

so shall my life become.What will be, will be.

For whatever You have writtenfor good it will always be

and my one and only prayer is just to be there

and will never fail to seehow Your pages unfold,

to witness with my very eyesthe beauty of my Lord

and to share, Your very workwith words that bring me joy.


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Bridging Your heartand the rhythm of Your heartbeats

with intimate passionate flowsof ink adorning on paper.

Date written: 29th October 2011


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Final Words From The Poet...Finally, I reached the end of my very first book... and I sincerely

hoped that you enjoyed everything that I had written here.Just like how life has been since I first encountered God andstarted writing poetry seven years ago, the act of writing thisbook in itself has also been a journey for me. It is a journey ofrecollection and looking back, where I find myself retracing thefootsteps through the many places I have gone and rediscoveringthe gems I leave behind, and also to look ahead and reexamine

the hopes and dreams I have for the days to come.As a result of this interesting journey, I find myself relearning thelessons I acquire all these years. But all in all, there was oneprecious realisation that I discovered about myself throughout thisjourney:...That I was never a writer, and I am never meant to become one.Why, you ask?Writers are inspired souls with the talents to weave their ownspecial and unique stories; powerful tales with the ability to bringtheir readers drifting into enchanting worlds of fantasy andimagination. Writers are those who genuinely own their stories,

with also the ability to mould and shape them according to theirliking......But these are things that I never have.For me, I was neither the creator nor the owner of the things Iwrote on. Rather than being the one who wrote the story, I wasjust a mere character, narrating the story I was a part of based

on my own perspective and observation.


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God's story.I have never been someone who creates and manipulates freshnew settings and plotlines. Rather, I am one who tells and reveals

them as what they are.

I am also not in things that are flashy, impressive and superficial.Instead, I am someone who journeys and finds myself noticing andappreciating those small little things that I come across every day,and ends up writing about them...A small flower growing by the side of the road...The sound of the whispering breeze...An untold longing for someone...And even the presence of God in my life...These are the things I wish to write and convey beautifully through

my poems

for all to see, hear and feel... and to know, that Godis as real as ever.Every gift has a storyevery picture a thousand meaningsevery life its very own purposeevery time with its different seasonsso shall my life becomewhat will be, will be.For whatever You have writtenfor good it will always beand my one and only prayer


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is just to be thereand will never fail to seehow Your pages unfold,to witness with my very eyesthe beauty of my Lordand to share, Your very workwith words that bring me joy.Bridging Your heartand the rhythm of Your heartbeatswith intimate passionate flowsof ink adorning on paper.

***Lord.Again, it does not matter where we are going.I want to go to wherever You take me, to see and learn from theplaces and people You want to bring me to.I just want to be with You, to always be in Your presence to livea life filled with Your love, joy, provision and grace.I just want to journey with You, and to be closer to You with eachpassing day.That is all I am.That is why... I am never a writer.Am just an ordinary person. An ordinary narrator, who is merelyplaying his part in a story greater than himself. Who is justmaking his best out of whatever he has, while occasionally andshamelessly slip and stumble along the way.


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The Poet's Notebook (2013)

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Transcript of The Poet's Notebook (2013)