today

thank you 

for letting me see the wonder 

of a mealworm wriggle out of its skin

emerging white and fresh, shedding its tired brown skin

an exfoliation we aspire to perhaps

to shed our past and emerge clean?

singapore's colonial story maybe? the only nation to embrace the colonisers 

perhaps these two years will be but a blip in history. 2 years when we hardly travelled. 

but in that year, a baby was born who has yet to see his grandmother, r his mother's best friend. he knows not the loss but they yearn to hold him in their arms. to know he is crossing milestones we cannot see. this virus has been cruel indeed 

where are the words 

to capture the sheer

beauty 

of the gentle folds of waves

as they wash ashore

and the wave lines etched 

on the sand 

beneath 

the retreating tide? 

tiny ridges 

how the mountains seem 

to eagles soaring above

maybe?

with the clouds above mirroring the waves below

a squirrel dashed right past my parked bicycle

a flash 

of darker brown on brown