Beyond Dark Clouds

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When I was a young boy, I was told that when someone died, they just became a star and stayed in the sky watching over us. To this day, as a grown man, my little earthling brain still cannot fully grasp the meaning of death. I don’t think I ever will.

Whenever I learn of someone passing away, I just turn on Bach’s “Mass in B minor”; and look up at the heavenly sky… beyond the dark clouds.

My thoughts and prayers go to Mrs. Grant (1949-2012), and my deepest and sincere condolences to the family.

-Quan.
March 2012.

“When someone you love becomes a memory, the memory becomes a treasure.” ~ Author Unknown

Walking Bird

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Why walk when you can fly?

I saw this bird on the beach, taking his lone walk. I decided to follow and watch  him. He didn’t seem hurry, rather enjoying his walk. He would take a few steps and then pause and looked around as if to decide which direction to go next. He didn’t seem bothered by the wave coming in at knee high. He just walked, bare-feet, slowly, alone.

Even though you can fly high up on the sky; however, if you want to touch the wet sand and feel the wave slapping on your knees, you still have to come down to earth and take a slow walk.

Even if you can fly, but will you walk?

-Quan.
March 2012.

“The higher we are placed, the more humbly we should walk.” ~ Marcus Tullius Cicero

Daisies for G

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I like to send these daisies to G who is now recovering from a heart attack on Saturday. I am very happy to learn that G is home and OK now.

G, I wish you a speedy recovery; and take good care of yourself.

-Quan.
March 2012.

“My life sucks! I just gotta remember that someone out there is having a heart attack, or getting a limb amputated. Then I stop complaining.” ~ Author Unknown.

Moon Road

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Almost two years ago in Utah, I was up on top of a big rock surveying the scene. A slight breeze caressed my face and whispered in my ear “the show is about to begin”. As I looked up, the dark-cloud curtain opened slowly, unveiled a little bit of, then a little more of, then a whole moon.

I could hear, somewhere in my head, Beethoven’s Moonlight sonata playing softly. Then the sound of the piano diminished and faded into the air. Then, I heard the sound of the shutter click from my camera. Then, I heard the sound of my breath. Then, I heard the sound of silence…

-Quan

March 2012.

“The moon, like a flower
In heaven's high bower,
With silent delight
Sits and smiles on the night.”
William Blake