Palmistry Poem by john tiong chunghoo
Palmistry
if the palmists be true
we hold our dear precious life
in our palm
all day, all night
yet is not capable
of altering the slightest bit
in the first instance - birth
and last instance - death
well, did god create these ten fingers
for me to count disappointments? ignorance?
see, all things holdable including ourselves
would soon turn to ashes and fly -
Monday, January 2, 2006
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9/23/2024 2:16:16 PM # 1.0.0.1119
