1 Corinthians 13: 1 & 13

If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

23 May 2012

The Secret Garden (4B Lee Wing Chak)

           I was there in a misery. I lost my way. No one knows where there was.
           The deep mid-night concealed most part of the mysterious moon. It was hiding. It was smiling. It lit the trees on the side and the grasses on the floor. I was walking on a path, wandering, with an unknown destination.

           Time seemed like a frozen river, never ever passed. I had reached a secret garden, deep beyond the dark.
           A blaze shone in front of me. More and more blazes shone. They came from the pistils of flowers, they flew like butterflies, they flew like lighting bugs. They twisted together and fleeeee ―― They exposed, as bright as fireworks.

          There were fluorescent flowers with a captivating purple, and wonderful spots on them. The flowers are ladies, standing in front of me, moving their bodies, attracting me to see. It has an unutterable, unique fragrance.

           I came near and touched on them. The miraculous journey began.
           My memories floated, a windstorm attacked my mind.

           “I love you.”

           “I hate you.”

           “This is war. Kill him!”

           “You will pay!”

           “Why are you being so ruthless, merciless?”

           “You don’t understand me!”

           What I had said, what I have heard, appeared once again.

           “God, help me! I am a bandit!”

           “What makes you hide yourself behind an evil?”

           I fell, I struggled. I mourned.

           “I believe this is the right decision.”

           “Never give up hope, my friend”

           “Son, never lose your faith.”

           “My love one, I am sure you know what is LOVE, even…”

           “kill her, kill her.”

           “You never understand me!”

           “I was wrong.”

           “What do I have, through the years, what is my purpose of life.”

           The blazes shown again, much more than the last time, the trees are monster, with terrible shadows. The moon has sunk the blazes become increasingly bright and glorious. They surrounded me. We became one source of light. I was inside of it. It was the first colour of flame. Then gold, then pale blue like the sky, then bright white, brighter than ever, purer than ever.
           “Come back to me, my dear son!” Spoken by the light.

           It was daytime! Sunlight soaked through the garden. All things were bright and beautiful, as wonderful as ever. The garden was living, with real butterfly flying. Birds were singing to me.

           I walked along the path I had come, it then disappeared. I could not find the way back to the garden, my secret garden.

            “Welcome back, sweetheart!” I was at my home with my family, how blissful am I!

           My secret garden, where I lost, where I was found.

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