poetry – gracelynn lau decentering studio

beyond hope and despair

something has died. something has come alive.
this rotten seed has finally stopped trying.
as if fresh ripen figs turned into dark dried crystals over time.
over time the trees gain a few rings and lose some buds;
over time soil gets more fertile, or sterile;
over time, not all bacteria become probiotics,
but some make aged wine.
over time I learn to embody myself, with or without fear
over time all prayers are answered, in ways that I like it or not.
Today marks the end of an era.
Let’s rest in peace without hope,
knowing that the yet to be arrived will come,
if I choose to stop hoping and start choosing.

by Gracelynn Lau Feb 12, 2020

nothing special happen

That moment I said yes to love
nothing special happened.
The bus arrived as scheduled,
squirrels searched for food, in trees,
in garbage. Some crossed the street,
some died. People glued to tiny screens,
some watched, some never cared.
Then love finally came
again as it always come, asking
are you willing?

Are you willing?
Flower gave away pollen,
Winds carried unspoken prayers written
on dried burning leaves.
Maples turned colours, in the woods,
in parking lots. Some seeds grew,
some died; natural as it has
always been, nothing special.

Will you love
when nothing special happened?

Nothing special happened.
So you go to the gym, twice
a week, as usual. Maybe run a
half marathon, occasionally.
People crossed your path,
and you theirs, as if walking
on fire, some on black ice.
Season over season, some remembered
some forgot. Then love came again
gently, as it has always been, asking
do you still love?

By Gracelynn Lau (Oct 20, 2019)

[This is my aesthetic response to the massive movement in Hong Kong. My dear sister asked me to write about shalom. I said yes, and in turn, the words started writing me.]

glamorous grief

Don’t wake up the tears
in moonlight silence they become
millions of fireflies singing hallelujah
Don’t ask the wounded snails
about their mothers’ belly
naked under the equatorial sun
their sleeping spiral tells
stories from the other world
Every experience is unrepeatable
there’ll always be hope trying
to reach the shore “without
fear of the wind or vertigo”
and dreams be born and
die everyday and the uneasiness
that forces me to collision
with your universe
for one last chance

By Gracelynn Lau (during my birthday 2019)

depressed goldfish

Slow clockwork ticks against
my will like a depressed
goldfish searching for the anchor
in the avenue of escape.
Signs emerged from the stone
have their eyes glued on me
in unnatural positions.
Put my self-realization on paper
I can’t roll the stone alone
Two butterflies chasing each other
asking for a metamorphosis, or
a resurrection. Tomorrow
or the next day I will be summoned
get away from me
I am almost there
leave the scales behind
then magic will happen

By Gracelynn Lau (before birthday 2019)

Original painting by Gracelynn Lau Feb 2019 Shawnigan Lake, BC

beggar’s bowl

I couldn’t capture your face but I
get a glimpse of your
infinite generosity.

I tried to give you
a definition, you showed me
your endless boundaries.

Your love for me is
a deep mystery
so deep I couldn’t see
through the void is
where you take me.

‘Dance me til the end
‘when the witnesses are gone
I will then begin
to describe your expression
very slowly, as slow
as leaves fall
and decaying
into the essence
of it all.

By Gracelynn Lau ( Oct 28, 2018)