After Enlightenment -The Stillborn Poem by john tiong chunghoo

on our back
nature plays out
the music of life

last life, this life, next life,
next next life
marching us on

we sing, we bleed,
we cry, we cruise,
we fight, we fly, we flee
twirl, slip and we fall,
die over and over again

we pick ourselves up
to swirl along
the groove where
it / nature loosens,
sprinkles magic with
a wand for fairness

we enter and exit
with what we carry
in our hearts

intentions of deeds
could light up heaven's path
or fan the flame of sufferance

every inch is scoured
with a flair for
what is fair

happiness and rewards
spring from there
what you think
you become
- on nature's
juggernaut terms

to the kind hearted
their graces blossom
in everybody's garden
roses, camelia, tulips -
all the heaven's flowers

to the not so gracious
or generous, nature draws
out their existence so they survive
as common, staid or dull blossoms
plants at the edge of the roads
and to the woman who bears
nothing but vengeance
towards her wrong doers
even cursing one to have
a stillborn for her first child
nature minces no word
and speaks right to her core
"Alright alright next life she will be
your mother and you - - her stillborn.''