Sunday mornings are slow for me
unless something disturbs me in bed
like the neighbor yelling at her dog
“Stay in your own yard!”
Half awakened, I wonder where my own yard is
It’s where I live, of course
Once I left my yard across the ocean
for my dream, so did many others
And look what we have here now!
So you are not yelling at me, are you, lady?
Wise God didn’t tell Adam and Eve
to stay in their own garden
he only told them not to eat the apple
because he knew that eventually their children will
leave the garden with good reason for another planet
No need to complain that they ruined food by spicing it
You can always make a choice for what you want
Lift your heart and walk the dog
Enjoy the colors of this beautiful sunny day

*
This was written long ago also.  The lady was my old neighbor who used to yell at
her dog to stay in her yard.  At first, I thought she was nice, keeping her dog from
doing his stuff in other people’s yard.  As I got to know her I realized her shouting
had another purpose–expressing her opinion on my being her neighbor and beyond.
Later, we bought a little house in a quiet neighborhood where I could stay in bed late
on Sunday mornings.

(by Byung A. Fallgren)

Life is a constant battle of
dealing with pitfalls
We grow mature as we
learn to turn trouble
into an inspiration
that propels our lives

*
I wrote this long ago to guide myself because learning to turn trouble into an
inspiration without anger or frustration is not easy.  Even now that I’m older it’s
still true to me.

(by Byung A. Fallgren)

Not every experience
makes us grow
Some mistakes become
a lesson learned
while some are nothing
but time wasted or worse
Well-planned experience
makes it worthwhile

(by Byung A. Fallgren.  byungafallgren.com)

Morning unfolds, gently touching
my numbed wings by the chill, windy night,
encouraging me to go outside to the sunlight

I crawl out the refuge to sunbathe,
unaware of the imminent danger of
becoming a prey of a black bird
then the usual lady came to rescue me
Thankful but I drag myself away

My wings begin to regain strength
when suddenly it showered on me
she jerks the garden hose
It’s you again, butterfly!
Lovingly she stares at me

I then see my ex-lover flies by,
looking gorgeous as ever
I hurry after her, hoping we get together again,
without getting shot down by the garden-hose-rain,
for unpredictable and jealous is the lady’s mind

*

Observing this butterfly reminds me that humans and animals, including insects, share
similarity in many aspects of life.  Buddhists believe in reincarnation after death; we reincarnate in any forms:  birds, animals, etc.  They chase pesky insects away, instead of killing, using smoke or scent.  It’s good to know that despite the mass killings committed
by certain groups nowadays, respect for life is still alive and well not only by religious groups but also good people in general.

(by Byung A. Fallgren.  Byung A. Fallgren’s Blog.)

My wings are vulnerable to the cold wind
as my heart bleeds for the estranged lover
The only strength in me is butterfly instinct
that guides me in the wind

I live by the rule of Nature,
enjoy being me, my ability
as the shrubs grow, loving sun
with joy of providing the shelter
to the weary one

It’s getting dark and the wind
bellows in the juniper,
me clinging onto the leaf for my life,
amazed by the sudden change
as if our separation isn’t enough a pain

I fear the long night, predators,
the lady with a camera

After the windy night
will come the warm morning light

When my wings warm again
I’ll fly to her, my dream; it won’t be vain

(by Byung A. Fallgren.  Byung A. Fallgren’s Blog.)

As we walk along the trail of time
our past disappear behind the knoll
of oblivion, yet reminders are everywhere
in the pebbles along sides of the road
in the silent waves of black eye Suzan
and reticent hills
We try to ignore them, getting busy
with our routine lives, yet at night

they sneak into our closed eyes,
demanding to resolve what’s in doubt
They vanish into the morning light of
wisdom, letting us flow with time,
appreciating what we have rather than
brooding over what we lost
Passion also dwindles with spring butterflies
and withering petals, leaving the past behind,
still, healthy enthusiasm remains

our paces become lighter and surefooted
from here to the end of the trail of our time

(by Byung A. Fallgren.  Byung A. Fallgren’s Blog.)