Staring at the ceiling, a light’s up there;
Lying flat, absorbing the feel of being alive.
Humans will at times doubt,
Or perhaps ponder the value of being alive,
But, reality or perhaps the present often times,
At that very moment cannot be fully grasped.
Perhaps at that moment will question
The flavor of existence: Sugary? Sour? Sweet? Hot?
If so, might as well ask oneself this:
“How’s life today? How to live tomorrow?”
Eyes closed; Going to sleep? Or drunk? Or tired? Or feeling guilty?
Once, someone asked: While lying on the bed,
Staring silently at the ceiling, what did one see?
Perhaps you will say I saw the ceiling, that’s it.
Or perhaps, you saw the world beyond the ceiling.
Once, that same person also asked: Below the ceiling,
What’s there? People? Things? Who? What?
Within the same space, its past existences
Are beyond our wishful thinking or imagination.
50 years or perhaps 100 years ago? Who?
Who had once lain in this patch of hazy, boundaryless juncture?
Mulling: Who’s who? Where’s who? Doing what? Thinking of whom?
Living? Waiting? For whom?
Then, with eyes open or eyes close, will the world vary?
Perhaps the world cannot be seen with eyes, or be heard with ears,
Or be touched with hands and feet, or be breathed with lungs
Or be tasted with tongue.
In that case…use the heart then!
Perhaps I can use my heart to observe, to sense, to feel, to experience.
Your world is up to you to imagine.
Mine, belongs to me.