January 28, 2015

Quicksand



You ask me what time I'll return, but I cannot give a time,
The rain in the hills of Ba at night overflows the autumn pools.
When can we trim the candle together by the western window,
And talk together of the rain in the hills of Ba at night?

-Li Shangyin    ‘Sent North On A Rainy Night’

We make plans but often they remain plans, never recognized. Leaving home, it may be the last time. The ground is stable. The ground is quicksand. Dreams fall by the wayside. Reality intervenes. We just never know, we just never know.

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