In the remnants of my dreams,
I lay in quiet reminiscence.
Sunbeams reflecting off my contemplation,
unraveling my brain like a flower in bloom.

In the water that revives me,
purifying me from the grime of human nature.
My pores open up as if to praise
a heavenly name for the gift of renewal.

In the hot tea I sip cautiously,
respiring in the hint of Camellia.
With a touch of honey,
the sweet blends with bitter.
In my perfectly balanced universe
swirling inside my clear, glass mug.

In the paper I skim with cynicism,
a torrent of errors and miracles
rush into the regions of my deepest fears
and hidden agendas.
We can never truly escape humanity's egoism
mirrored back at us in black and white.
But I find solace that this paper
will be replaced by another,
a testament that life goes on.

In the elevator I'm lowered down,
confined to this limited space.
I'm just a woman trapped inside myself
waiting... till the doors open to liberate me.

In the concrete beneath me
as I walk through the rush hour streets,
gravity is my invisible dance partner,
gripping and releasing me in sync with my steps
as the paved road shows me the way.

In an instant of tragedy,
crossing fate's final crossway.
The scene of a bloody cause and effect,
I am the victim.
I am incorporeal.
I am everywhere.

- by Jenny Hyun