Stronger
See my scars,
See my wounds,
All over the place
Far from perfect;
...Just like everyone.
Cracks and wrinkles
Run all over
Like the trunk of a tree;
Like any tree in any forest,
Battered by rain and wind.
Baby days long lost
Cheated away by the world;
The frost who kills and steals
From every tree and every forest,
But my roots run deep,
Deep in my father's womb
And my leaves are not blind
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poem by Wilson Khor Woo Han
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The Silent Owl
The glimmering eyes
reflecting the moonlit sky
Dreamy but vigilant eyes
suddenly come into life
catching sight of scarlet petals
of blooming roses in the night.
Silvery feathers
gently glide
eyes perching in the dark
on a nearby branch
Big glowing eyes
silently observing
the field of dreams,
thinking deeply
and listening intently
to the rustling of the leaves
and the sound of the breeze
playing among the flowers
as critters continue to crawl
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poem by Wilson Khor Woo Han
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A Season's Closing
A wind that passes in the night,
came unexpectedly
and gone without a trace.
But your face it did touch,
running through your hair
as they float while it dances,
and patiently listening
to your unspoken emotions
before carrying them away
to the horizon's furthest edges...
Our encounter was brief
a mere season in a year
that quickly passes by
in the stream of running Time
but a fated one, indeed
a precious one, nevertheless
So, here is my blessing to you
before we part our ways:
This one last and final Song
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poem by Wilson Khor Woo Han
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Waiting n Love
My little child,
Everything will come when the time is right.
Like the sun that rises and sets,
At its appointed time each day,
Like the rain that falls
Keeping the soil alive,
And the law of the four seasons,
Part of nature's beautiful fascade...
If even the wind
That comes and goes as it pleases
Heeds the words of its Master
Halting when rebuked,
What more Love
Who in all things were first made,
Governed and placed in motion?
Again,
If He cares about when the sun rises
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poem by Wilson Khor Woo Han
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Thinking About You
Alone,
In the dark
Unable to sleep
Tossing and turning.
Listening quietly
To the December rain
Tossing and turning
Tossing and turning...
Restless,
Thinking about you.
Realised,
A sting of loneliness
As I opened my eyes
Staring at the celling.
No one but myself
In this small single room
Tossing and turning
Tossing and turning...
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poem by Wilson Khor Woo Han
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A Poem For Elyssa
What will I see
appearing before me
when she types her heart
and her thoughts out for me
Will it be sweet,
Will it be majestic,
but even if it doesn't
it's still beautiful, you see
It's not your talent
that gives your poem beauty,
neither it's skill nor wits
that gives it the punchline hits...
but it's the reflection of who you are
on the blank paper I will see
that gives it its breathing life
the way it ought to be.
Perfection is not the answer
nor it is technique or book-bound knowledge,
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poem by Wilson Khor Woo Han
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When Apologies Mean Nothing
When apologies mean nothing,
when sorry is just a word...
You don't have to say it anymore
when it is not going to change
The way you look at me;
How different you are today
and that part of you I loved -
now slowly, dying away.
What are those three words
when expressed with guilty eyes
When it is common knowledge
That repentance is just a farce
if one refuses to change
And here you are, still afraid of me...
Afraid, for you know too well
you could not accept and love me back
And would only push me away
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poem by Wilson Khor Woo Han
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More Than Just A Birth
Christmas.
More than just a birth.
More than the celebration,
The food and the presents
Deeper than acts of giving.
More than a day of rest,
A time with the family.
More than a mass or service,
For annual religious favours.
More than just a birth
The birthday of the Son of God,
Christmas has another reason:
The beginning of a revelation
Once long lost to man,
A revelation who breathes
Who laughs and cries,
Who man can see and hear
With his very own eyes and ears.
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poem by Wilson Khor Woo Han
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The Dreamer's Smile
A simple girl
with half-sleepy eyes
smiling dreamily by herself,
sitting by the edge
of the balcony by the sea
looking at the birds
flying freely in the air
and listening to the waves
and their soft ocean rhythm
that have made themselves heard
since the creation of the horizons.
This dreamer's smile
now a rare beautiful jewel
in this modern hectic world
offering a moment's pause
to this weary poetic soul
- a glimpse into her world
as he listens to her heart
and the tale behind her smile...
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poem by Wilson Khor Woo Han
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It Is Still Too Early To Cry
Life's bleak
There's no other way to flee
from the broken glass fragments
scattered across the floor.
Watching pieces of my face
staring back at me
as my head hung low
looking at those flawed reflections.
Blood dripping on the brick
the now silent culprit
who blew that precious mirror
right in front of my face.
Happened in a flash
nothing I could save
just be glad that my eyes
are spared from the graze.
The blizzards are blowing
the wind won't stop howling,
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poem by Wilson Khor Woo Han
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