Final Draft

Basically the same, with only minor changes.

Nadleeh

As I sat by the dry river bed, I gazed into the dry space; I dreamt
I dreamt of all the beautiful things in the world; but most of all I dreamt of the flowing river
A little girl walked close by and asked, “What are you looking at? The water is gone.”
“You’re right little one; the water is gone. But you see, I can still see the water nevertheless.”
“How? When the water is gone?”
“Is the water really gone? Or is that just your mind playing tricks on you?”
“Look! There is no water!”
“Tell me little one, do you know what a river looks like?”
“Yes.”
“Then, if you want to see the water, all you have to do is close your eyes.”
“Close my eyes?”
“Yes. If you think of a river, if you look around you, you can see the water by closing your eyes.”

As she sat by my side, she closed her eyes; she dreamt
She dreamt of all the beautiful fish in the river; but most of all she dreamt of the flowing water
A little thought came to her and she asked, “What else can I see?”
“What would you like to see? If you try hard enough, you can see anything.”
“Anything? I want to see the people I love.”
“Who do you love? I’m thinking your mother…or maybe your father? Am I right?”
“My papa is somewhere far without me; but, mamma died…”
“I see. I’m sure you remember what she looked like.”
“Yes.”
“Good girl. Now think of her, and close your little eyes again.”
“Will she really be there?”
“If you saw the sparkling, clear water, then you can see her.”

As we sat by the dry river bed, we dreamt of what mattered
We dreamt of fond memories, but most of all we dreamt of the people we loved
A little tear fell down her check, “I don’t wanna die mamma.”
“…You’re not going to die little one; don’t be afraid. Memories are not meant to kill you.”
“Why should I live when mamma is gone?”
“Mamma is gone; but you see, if you die too, who will carry her memory?”
“I’m afraid. I don‘t wanna be afraid!”
“Don’t be afraid little one. Memories are not the same as real life, but they can be as real as you make them. Can you remember her?”
“Yes.”
“Of course you can. Close your eyes little one, she will be there.
“I want mamma…”
“I know. Now don’t say a word, close your little eyes, and think about your mamma; she will be there in your memories.”

As she sat by the dry river bed, she cried; she dreamt of her mother
She dreamt of her mother’s gentle smile, but most of all she dreamt of her mother’s warm embrace
A little smile curved around her face and she cried, “I can feel you mamma!”
“You always will little one, as long as you cherish her memory.”
“But, what should I do now? Momma is still gone.”
“Mamma is gone, but ah, her memory is stored alive deep within your heart.”
“I’m still sad. I’m still afraid.”
“I know all to well. But wouldn’t mamma want you to grow, and be happy? Would she not want you smiling?”
“Yes.”
“You’re right. Yes she would. Love her memory as she loved you.”
“I want…”
“Don’t say anything at all. Instead, dream it. When you’re sad and afraid, think of mamma; dream and you can do anything. Close your little eyes and open your heart and the world will open up to you. You and mamma can again play in the river together."

As I opened my eyes, I saw the braches of a tree.
I sat up and saw the river bed filled with running, glimmering water.
“It was all a dream.”…until, I saw a little note folded in my hat.

“Thank you.
Nadleeh”

Poem First Draft

Nadleeh

As I sat by the dry river bed, I gazed into the dry space; I dreamt
I dreamt of all the beautiful things in the world; but most of all I dreamt of the flowing river
A little girl walked close by and asked, “What are you looking at? The river is dry.”
“You’re right little one; the river is dry. But you see, I can still see the water never the less.”
“How? When the water is gone?”
“Is the water really gone? Or is that just your mind playing tricks on you?”
“Look! The water is dry!”
“Tell me little one, do you know what a river looks like?”
“Yes.”
“Then, if you want to see the water, all you have to do is close your eyes.”
“Close my eyes?”
“Yes. If you think of a river, if you look around you, you can see the water by closing your eyes.”
As she sat by my side, she closed her eyes; she dreamt
She dreamt of all the beautiful fish in the river; but most of all she dreamt of the flowing water
A little thought came to her and she asked, “What else can I see?”
“What would you like to see? If you try hard enough, you can see anything.”
“Anything? I want to see the people I love.”
“Who do you love? I’m thinking your mamma…or maybe your father? Am I right?”
“My papa is somewhere far without me; but, mamma died…”
“Well then I see. I’m sure you remember what she looked like.”
“Yes.”
“Good girl. Now think of her, and close your little eyes again.”
“Will she really be there?”
“If you saw the little silver fishes in the water, then you can see her.”
As we sat by the dry river bed, we dreamt of what mattered
We dreamt of fond memories, but most of all we dreamt of the people we loved
A little tear fell down her check, “I don’t wanna die mamma.”
“…You’re not going to die little one; don’t be afraid. Memories are not meant to kill you.”
“Why should I live when mamma is gone?”
“Mamma is gone; but you see, if you die too, who will carry her memory?”
“I’m afraid. I don‘t wanna be afraid!”
“Don’t be afraid little one. Memories are not the same as real life, but they can be as real as you make them. Can you remember her?”
“Yes.”
“Of course you can. Close your eyes little one, she will be there.
“I want mamma…”
“I know. Now don’t say a word, close your little eyes, and think about your mamma; she will be there in your memories.”
As she sat by the dry river bed, she cried; she dreamt of her mother
She dreamt of her mother’s gentle smile, but most of all she dreamt of her mother’s warm embrace
A little smile curved around her face and she cried, “I can feel you mamma!”
“You always will little one, as long as you cherish her memory.”
“But, what should I do now? Momma is still gone.”
“Mamma is gone, but ah, her memory is stored alive deep within your heart.”
“I’m still sad.”
“I know all to well. But wouldn’t mamma want you oto grow, and be happy? Would she not want you smiling?”
“Yes.”
“Yes she would. Love her memory as she loved you.”
“I want…”
“Don’t say anything at all. Instead, dream it. When you’re sad, think of mamma; dream and you can do anything. Close your little eyes and open your heart and the world will open up to you. You and mamma can again play in the river together.
As I opened my eyes, I saw the braches of a tree.
I sat up and saw the river bed filled with water.
“It was all a dream.”…until I saw a little note in my hat.
“Thank you. Nadleeh”

愛

接吻

私は愛するシャイエンヌ…
私の風…
…しかし…
だれであるか。
だれであるか。
…その点では…
私はだれであるか。
私はだれであるか。
…
私達はだれであるか。
私達はだれであるか。
私はシャイエンヌ愛する

Kisses

As for me I love you Cheyenne...
My Wind...
...but...
Who are you?
Who are you?
...At this point in time…
Who am I?
Who am I?
...
Who are we?
Who are we?
I love you Cheyenne

I love Japanese script…it’s so beautiful.

Day Lily

This is another note I wrote to my friend. But this is not the original. It was originally just to personal for anyone to read. So I edited for the “public“. I do not know you, but my words apply to you I'm sure. Hope you like it.

........day lilies...are beautiful........yes yes all flowers are beautiful..because of their colors and shapes...in some cases their scents...even their mother plant is sometimes beautifully shaped..and well..flowers are a creation of god..all of god's creations are beautiful.....for these reasons..(and i'm sure many more)..flowers..are beautiful..and it is always a pleasure to look upon them in awe...
..but day lilies..have another aspect of beauty.........each bloom of the plant..lasts only one day....the bloom is beautiful during the day…by night, the bloom is withered..the next morning..the shriveled pedals are laying on the ground under the original bloom..almost as if the plant was crying the night before.............
....each day lily is unique and beautiful..with its own little characteristics that make it different from the other day lilies.................the fact that each bloom lasts for such a short time..means they are to be cherished...it means that each flower..is very special.....that is why their beauty should NEVER be underestimated or taken for granted....
..it's true..it is sad..that the beautiful blooms fall away so quickly...........but there is hope....for the next day.......the plant produces another beautiful flower..and other unique, special bloom..with its own characteristics........that is to be cherished.....
............the flower is beautiful just as you are..the flower is unique from the other flowers just as you are unique from the other people.......the flower is to be cherished just as you are to be........
...it is true...there will be other people with characteristics very much like your’s....but just like the flowers..even though they are similar..each is unique............you are unique.........there are characteristics only you posses...the characteristics that make up part of your body and mind.........
....that is why..the flowers remind me of you.......

(I’m trying to say: You are unique and special. Cherish yourself.)

Thoughts....ugh

Incomplete Thoughts

It’s funny,
The passage of time.
It never halts.
No matter how much we try
No matter how much we want
Time never stops.
Moments pass
Feelings pass
Both, with the passage of time
People
Do I know these people?
Do they even know me?
It’s funny,
That we say we know people
That we form bonds with them
Yet we hardly know them
What even is a relationship?
What even is a bond?
Relationships change
Bonds change
Both, with the knowledge of people
Where am I?
What time is it?
Who are these people around me?
It’s funny,
That I am alive and yet do not have an answer to those simple questions
What is a clock?
You see,
Time is an abstract
Yet a clock, is tangible
Does a clock really say what time it is?
Who said so?
Is a clock a tangible definition of the abstract time?
If so, is that definition correct?
Who said so?
It’s funny,
That people automatically try to define abstracts
People
It’s funny,
That people are the only physical beings capable of expressing emotions, capable of thinking abstractly, capable of reasoning, capable of loving; yet humans hate so much, humans destroy so much.
I don’t completely understand people, but at least I have an answer as to why that is so...you most likely do as well
It’s funny,
That a mirror reflects only what is physical,
But not what is mental
Not what is spiritual
Not what is emotional
A mirror is not a true reflection
Only a small part of a whole is reflected
It’s funny,
That people are like grass
You see
If you look at grass as a collective whole
Grass is beautiful, yet all the blades look similar
But if you look closer
You see that each blade of grass is unique
Making it all the more beautiful
If you look at people as a collective whole
People are beautiful, yet all people look similar
But if you look closer
You see that each person is unique
Making that person all the more beautiful
But,
Grass is relatively simple;
People are not simple at all
I don’t claim to know why time never stops
I don’t claim to know whether a clock is accurate and correct
I don’t claim to know why a mirror is not a complete reflection
I don’t claim to know why people can be compared to something as simple as grass
I don’t claim to know who people are or what they mean;
Just as people do not know who I am or what I mean
I don’t claim to even know who I am or what I mean;
I hardly know;
You will hardly know
Despite all this,
I am here
And while I am here;
I shall try to find the answers to these unanswered questions
I shall love the people I have formed relationships with
Look for me in the grass;
Or in your reflection,
I’ll be near a clock.

Encouraging Idea (Hopefully)

I’m in a hotel in Oregon…and what can I say; I’m bored and not in the mood to talk directly with anyone AND I‘m not inspired to write anything really creative…so this silly little blog is the answer to my boredom.
…moving on…
I recently wrote this for a friend of mine…in attempt to give her a little hope, and to let her know that I’m thinking of her (we unfortunately don’t get to see each other that often). But I thought I would share and make it public, because this idea applies to anyone who is living through a chaotic, hard time.
It’s rather short, but I hope it’s meaningful to you.

....you know...we are like..small pools of water....
...typically...they are calm and still....but when a rock is thrown into them..they are agitated and disturbed...

....I'm sorry that I’m not 100% sure about you....but typically...I'm calm..isolated and lonely...but calm....
....apparently...we both have had situations like rocks thrown into our lives....and we are agitated and disturbed, and so much more, because of those rocks.....

...even though the small pools say agitated for a while....eventually..they calm back down...and are still and serene...
...the same is true of us....eventually...things will change for us....and serenity will take over...
...like the pools of water....
i just know it

My Backyard Flowers