Life goes on

Even if life runs wild as a flood, you can still gather gold from its currents.

Life never ceases.

With sorrow in your gaze,
you watch the dawn of winter jasmine,
and the morning light soaking through the leftover winter chill —
reverent, longing, and looking back.

When the night descends, you wake with a start 

you dreamed that the you inside the dream dreamed 

Death holding his scythe, huge and light.

Sadness clings to cigarette butts, falling like rain — scattered across the ground.

The joyful gatherings you longed for, the carefree pleasures 

they never came as promised.

Golden sunlight shines anew on the flowers about to bloom.

The night has long since faded. Death has been driven back.

Fate tells you the road it took 

and makes you find your own exit from the maze.

Out on the street, you see so many — just like you.

Then, around a corner — a small, sweet flower. You can't help but smile.

The gears never stop. Never rest. That's the maze.

And you — through the slivers between them 

glimpse the high sky, the scattered clouds.

'Hey. New day,' a voice says.