But this storm blew it strong. Heel high into space. As high as the trees in the forest of freedom. Highest dreams of the night children roaming the streets. As high as the city buildings are able to change the height of the heart. As high as my imagination is far from real.
Until the motionless stars leave it to the memories of the past that chains us to expect nothing. And that gentleness is now a force. Who uprooted the trees. Breaking fragile wings is vulnerable helpless. Until there is no boundary between free and shackles. There is no boundary between that time and me.
In the silence of the night I bowed to a crouching song. How am I telling you, Mother?
Bandung, March 30, 2018