Another Self Poem by john tiong chunghoo

there is intelligence
in the air, in the nothingness
what the eyes see can be deceiving
and what the eyes dont, full of everything
there is no town, no water, in the mirage
except another tale nature wishes to titilate us with
and the moon is not luminous, it survives on borrowed light
another nature's hide and seek played with us
between the sun and the very earth we live in
what more? the earth under our feet is not flat
except another side of nature to get us to see things
away from what they appear to be
there is an intelligence in every thing that we see
the cell that slowly grows into two, three, four
and a human being, the flower that slowly tilts its petals
till it is a full blown beauty swinging in the winds
there is a whole universe in the air one would
one day see and shout like the day when
we saw from afar the real face of the earth
only this time it will be 'How could my real self
be hanging in the trees! '