In winds higher than the clouds, I see the sea,
again and again pushing waves onto shore,
and again and again drawing them back.
All things are silent—only the tides are breathing.
Let the clouds cast glances of shadow on the mountains,
let starlight and moonlight wander the earth;
let the stones keep silent, let the birds change their course,
let every grain of sand lie boundless from the stars.
Let them argue—like waves colliding;
let them judge—like pebbles counting each other;
let them build walls, raise flags, gather crowds—
but I let the wind be my breath, the tide my heartbeat.
Let them—
forget you, or condemn you; withdraw, or demand of you.
Each heart creates its own weather:
sunshine, storm, lightning, or rainbow—all of its choosing.
Let the water shimmer with ripples, or crash in breakers,
yet it cannot move the watching shoreline.
Let the forest wind sweep past my body—
I need only gaze into the fire beating within.
Let the world pass, just as it is,
while my heart remains clear as at the beginning;
in the depths of eternity I spread quiet wings,
joining countless wings, following the star-road home.
XinYu 2025-09-15