A thousand years

I will not be there
Will the birds still sing their songs,
a thousand years on?

Just as in the benign being
Just as in the happy living
Just as in human feat, mauling
the love from hate
for a thousand years

As birds as they do to flying
In colours as there is vibrancy
Instinctive, it is quite
That we need nothing, not even words,
not even the words on stones
for a thousand years

So I need no modestness
to know this foolishness
I need no sadness
to know the happiness
But the long road, the journey
I need no Koubru and Wangbren
to know Marjing and Thangjing
but the happy thoughts, the direction.

I do need to know
The moments, how you feel
when it is emptiness
when I don't make you feel.



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