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CV

The beginning of wisdom is found in doubting; by doubting we come to the question, and by seeking we may come upon the truth.
-- Pierre Abelard

Footsteps

They were the cold, darkling footsteps,
Its pace a music's dance.
They were the footsteps from my dream,
The dream at the railroad tracks.
No train has been there in years,
Longer than I've lived.
The wood is rotting,
The rails rusted through,
Like dry, crumpled chrysanthemum leaves.
In my dream, I walked this place,
Mile after mile, everyday.
Going nowhere.
Finding no one.
The footsteps frightened me,
And I rejoiced.
I kept walking.
And the footsteps followed me,
But I saw no one.
I knew no one.
My dream went on
And I never woke up.
When the sun set, I slept
But I never dreamed.
In my dream, there was no one by me,
And those darkling shadow steps.
I wondered only once about my mother,
But kept on walking.
My shadow had no answers,
And I had no more questions.
At last, one night I went to my knees
And threw those chrysanthemum leaves into the air.