anyone lived in a pretty how town

"By coming to me and asking for only your body, to be healed, you're not going deep enough. You have underestimated the depths of your longings, the longings of your heart."

the roots of the discontent human heart go deep. and what does it mean to sing, "Jesus be the centre of my life"? there's so many material things you can pray for and there are so many things that God can give --- but I'm learning that there's only one thing, one thing (that i do sometimes, regrettably neglect) that truly is the bulwark for my soul.

-

chinese new years keep me thinking of family and the future.
what does it mean to live, connected by an infrangible cord
car rides to yew tee, to tiong bahru, to ang mo kio, to and fro.
when we leave our shoes at the metal gate we think of your shoes, sitting on the rack
"how tall you've grown!!" red envelopes exchanged, excitement over children,
small talk - occasional awkward moments - heads thrown back in laughter
when i hold your hand you cannot remember my name.
when you hold out oranges, shyly, my cousin - your mum - gently probes you to address me jiejie
"let the old young make way for the new young."
everybody is growing up too fast.
our mind flickers to you. and you are alive in our conversation.
"tradition, not superstition," a friend reminds me, and
somewhere a lion dances to a drumbeat

also this poem was on the latest edition of QLRS and i can somewhat relate :~)

My Daddy Is

My daddy is a gardener
who makes flowers
bloom across
my mother's face
and plucks out
weeds of discontent
from her unyielding mouth.
It's always springtime in this house.

By Lester Tan