The Distance of My Home

At dawn, my dreams are torn

Looking through the cracks

I see a painting

Of a camel as big as an elephant

In her eyes

I see my home

At noon I come home from work

The winter sky is broken into pieces

The sunlight flows in from holes

I gaze at the painting on the wall

The camel is in heat, in its eyes

I smell green grass

I look around, footprints everywhere ...

The snow-white prints belong to the baby

Camels coming home

The prints hotter than the earth belong

To Buddha roaming around the world

The cold prints like ice belong

To the broken painting

The prints darker than my eyes belong

To those who have left home

In the dark, night is approaching

I have a dream in the light of poetry

My dream floats in space—

The horse saddle is still wet

My cold fingers

Stroke the painting on the wall—

The desert in the shape of sand dunes

Is the size of my home

The distance of chipping and breaking

Is the distance between countryside and city

The time to heal

Is beyond the dream