Despite the golden calm in Singapore
and the late afternoon midsummer sun,
my fluttering, fleeting heart is flooding
as if the hovering typhoon in all of Manila
made landfall in Heng Mui Keng Terrace
and took over my pen, two, three blinks
the storm filled both my eyes, all ears!
but the sound beats me.
Listen to the silver rain, ringing, roaring
and taking over one, two, three blinks
How shall I recount, rewrite the past
three months under this thunderstorm?
Despite seas, oceans, or another shore?