What If This Road

What if this road, that has held no surprises

these many years, decided not to go

home after all;

what if it could turn

left or right with no more ado

than a kite-tail?

What if its tarry skin were like a long, supple bolt of cloth,

that is shaken and rolled out, and takes

a new shape from the contours beneath?

And if it chose to lay itself down

in a new way; around a blind corner,

across hills you must climb without knowing

what’s on the other side; who would not hanker

to be going, at all risks? Who wants to know

a story’s end, or where a road will go?

Sheenagh Pugh (1950-?)

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When Shoes Decide

Our shoes come off

Our tender feet on cold marble

As we enter the Hall of Wisdom

To harvest pearls as the sage speaks

On the paths we take in life.

The heart or the mind

Which decides?

Some say the heart.

Some say the mind.

The sage shakes his head

It’s the shoes we choose

That decide the path we take.

We cringe as we visualise

Comfortable flip flops

On rocky trails.

We leave the hall enlightened

Scrambling to clothe our naked feet.

But the sage is trapped

In the Hall of Wisdom

For his shoes have been stolen.

Chan Joon Yee (1964-?)

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