Speech And Silence – Hong Kong 2019

Earlier in the day, you shouted ‘Five demands, not one less!’
but now you are writing a poem all by yourself.
Your shout of the day disappeared into the depth of the sky
together with a million others’ ,

but the whisper of your poem is still there.
Wrapped in the burning heat of your intestines,
it sways in the wavicles that come from your unknown future.
Groping along the banyan roots dancing madly under the pavements
in search for the cracks in the printed letters,

it conspires for the revolution of consciousness that generates this very reality.
It demands the freedom from tyranny of the language obsessed with rationality.
(It’s the same whisper
that pours the gentle magic into the ears
of a little girl crying in a scary dream)

Shout of day drives you to action, but
poetry of night draws you back to the love of the dead.
On the bank of the water that floats a black rock,
you conceive the voice of silence.