Glimpses of Paris during COP21 (with all its hypocrisies, contradictions and hopes)

The Song of Dissolution

This is a song inspired by the melody of ‘Fukaki Umi No Kanata’ (Beyond the Deep Sea) by Yoshida Brothers. Feel free to read this song while listening to the melody or sing it… Hope this song inspires you to travel into the depths of your heart. Bon Voyage! All the best for your own internal searching.


Many seas I’ve crossed

Many ports I’ve reached

In my little

Imperfect boat

Of body and mind

Guided by the light of Heart


Oh a storm is coming

All is about to overturn

Perhaps I will finally realize that


From the sea

I rise

Into the sea

I fall

Like a little wave

In it dissolved


There is nowhere to go

For all is the Sea

Just let it Be


Wherever the currents lead me

I’ll go

Wherever the fishes call me

I’ll be

Back to the shore

I’ll return

Wave after wave


Oh the world is big

Yet so small

Oh time flows fast

Yet so slow

So I sing this song


From the sea

I rise

Into the sea

I fall

Like a little wave

In it dissolved


Sometimes my ego builds

My mind wanders

And I ask myself

Where shall I go next?

Is it New York, Lisbon or Rio?

Is it Gantou1, Paris or Tokyo?

Then I realize Being

And ego dissolves in itself


No more searching for the Sea

For I am already part of It

No ‘I’ to feed

No ‘mind’ to free

No fear

No worries

No attachments

No space

No time

Nothing at All

Yet Everything at the same time

So I sing this song


From the sea

I rise

Into the sea

I fall

Like a little wave

In it dissolved


Like a little wave

In it dissolved


Like a little wave

In it dissolved


  1. Gantou is my ancestral village (now a small town) in China where my grandparents and some relatives live. It is located on the margins of the Ou River, in the southeast part of the Zhejiang Province.

Letter to Ma

Here I am sitting in a Portuguese church in India. Far away from you Ma, you who are now in Portugal.

I remember from the depths of my heart that you were the angel who introduced me to the teachings of Lord Jesus Christ. And here I am attending a Sunday Mother’s Day mass in a Portuguese church in India. The head priest holding the mass called all mothers to join him near the altar in an act of Celebration of Mother’s Day. All the mothers here for the Sunday mass, stood up and one by one, walked to the front of the altar to join the priest. Some confidently went and some were hesitant to go so the assistants had to give them a little push to go receive their due blessings. When all the mothers were gathered up in the altar, how lonely and grey did the crowd in the benches become. Little boys and girls sitting by themselves and ‘single’ males. Something was missing in the crowd—the motherly presence.

How dark would the world be without mothers? I got a small glimpse of it. Very dark and claustrophobically incomplete… Something more precious than the rarest diamonds would be missing in this world.

A world without mothers is not just an imagined reality. This apocalyptic reality has already struck many brothers and sisters in the world.

Feel the sorrow of the children and adults who lost their mothers during the Nepal earthquake, how dark has their world become? A sorrow weighting more than ten thousand buildings crashing upon the heart and surrounding it in hopeless darkness.

Feel the anger of the children who witness the raid and rapes of their mothers by those legal or illegal ‘soldiers’? How painful is it to see such depravity and not being able to stand up and protect your our mother? How can you forgive and forget these incidents?

Feel the shame of mothers who in order to prevent their children to starve are pushed to lives of prostitution? That entangling shame that keeps mothers trapped in prostitution rings in the limbo state of living-dead?

Feel the disappointment of mothers whose children can’t even take 5 seconds of their busy lives to show appreciation for their mother? How sad it is to sit in near the phone waiting for a long-awaited phone call from the children whom you gave your Life?

Ask yourself. Is your mother in your Heart?

My reply would be

‘My mother is

But we’re far apart

I hope you know

Dear Ma

Please forgive me

For flying away

Far away from the nest you made

One day

I’ll return

Bring you Love

That is long overdue

Stay strong

Stay healthy

I love you

You see this letter

Blossomed from within me

I have learned much

Seen much

Experienced much

In the end

We are all Free

We can meet


Here and there

As long as our Hearts connect…’


With Love,

The bird who flew away

Let It Burn

Let it burnOur Lady of Rosary

In the fire of Heart

Let it burn

To Heavenly ash

Throw in whatever is dear

All your worries, attachments and fears

Hurl in your innermost cravings

All your wishes, desires and yearnings

Let it burn

Let it burn

Let it burn

Until Nothing is left unburned in your Soul


You will see

That everything catches fire

And burns to ashes

From food, friends and family

To the innermost pleasures and desires

From all egotistical notions and concepts

Of purity and defilement

Of holiness and sin

Of deficiency and perfection

You throw in anything that rises in the Mind

And it catches fire like dried Autumn grass

Let it burn


Let the Wind blow

Let it spread this fire of Heart

Towards the ten directions

Let it kindle lost hearts that stopped burning long time ago

Let it burn

When You Have Desire For

When you have desire for

Some’thing’ or some’one’

And you strive to take possession of that object

How naïve you are

In believing that others don’t crave these also

And such is the beginning of the cycle of suffering


When you had desire for

Some’thing’ or some’one’

And you strove to take possession of that object

How naïve you were

In believing that others didn’t crave these also

And such is the beginning of the cycle of suffering


When you will have desire for

Some’thing’ or some’one’

And you will strive to take possession of that object

How naïve you will be

In believing that others will not crave these also

And such is the beginning of the cycle of suffering

Flying Home


Is a concept I struggle with


Where is home?

Sometimes I ask

Flying around the world


Is home


An estuary city where the adventurous Tagus River

Meets the mysterious Atlantic Ocean

History recalls that seabound ships left

This city’s shore towards the four corners of the world

Some call it discovering new worlds

Others call it conquering,



Murdering and enslaving.

Whatever terms people decide to give

By the other side of the river

Lord Jesus Christ stands with arms wide open

Watching over

Who am I to judge?

I am just a little wave among all the waves

Hitting the shores of this coastal city

Where fishermen sail deep into the ocean

Praying to hopefully return to their families

With cartloads fresh fish

Oh that lightly charred sardine!

Oh the smell of roasted chestnuts

Tap-dancing in the hot oven

To the humble seller’s melodic chants

Nearby pigeons

Dance in circles their stylish pigeon-dance

Around the old smiling lady

Feeding corn and stale bread


Each movement gently flowing

No rush to do anything

People sitting and chatting

In sunny esplanades

Drinking “cafés”


And reminiscing the good old times…

I remember

From when I was still in elementary school

That unexplainable smell of warm spring rain

Gently touching the mud

Pregnant with the seeds of spring flowers

Waiting to blossom into the world

When rain fell

All the children would stop playing their usual games

Some seek cover, some not at all

And everyone would simply contemplate little raindrops

Falling from the sky

Into the open school ground

And when these short rain showers stopped

I would run with my best friends

Dig holes in the mud

And continue our glass bead game

Our circular beads

Clashing and departing

Only memories remain


Is home


A small village in south-east China

By the margins of Ou River

Where my kinship line is traced to

The ancestral tombs resting on bayberry covered hills

Calmly watching over the village and its descendants

Sometimes I wonder

If my ancestors are happy with all these changes happening:

From a small village to an industrial town

From small huts to tall buildings

From farms to factories

From cattle to cars

From streams to stench

Oh my childhood stream

Where I used to swim

It no longer flows

Standing still like a puddle of stenchy urine

Discharged by uncaring residents and factories

I remember I almost drowned playing in that stream

Fortunately I was saved from death

But how about the people slowly drowning in the polluted industrialized air?

How about the old people silently drowning in sorrow

For their past village memories no longer correspond to their present reality

Oh lonely elderly parents

Most of their children have migrated abroad

Filled up their pockets with foreign money

Some send back remittances

Some return to build big tall houses for their parents

Or for themselves to display and compete for social status

Their pockets might be full

Yet their roots are rotten

But who am I to judge?

I am just a little stream among many streams

Flowing trying to connect to the river of Life

Instead of judging others

I strive to clean up my own mind

And deeply dive into myself

Therefore I continue my search for home…


Is home

New York City?

Where I was born

Under the shadow of temple like skyscrapers

Spreading ideas and ideologies

Coded in images, sounds, products and services

Casting a web like illusive world

Where people flock like sheep

To this land of struggle and opportunity

Searching for the American dream

And once the ‘chosen’ ones finally reach this place

They are given a take it or leave it offer

Either take a bite of the American dream like everyone else does

Or go back to where you came from, loser

I wish I knew where I came from

So I’ll continue searching…


Is home


A land of waterfalls and peaks

Rising and falling

Into its vineyard surrounded lakes

A hilly place this is

Where learning and un-learning occurs

Where conditioning and un-conditioning occurs

Depending on the seeker

A place where the bonds of friendship are tied and untied

Where the cold heart is tickled by the warmth of its downtown festivals

Where all kinds and types of people somehow gather together

To celebrate, dance, sing and eat

Crunchy apples, savory chilis, pad-thais, momos

And whatever dishes you can think of

Ithaca can be place of inspiration


And meditation

On its South hill

A Buddhist monastery

Stands majestic

Spreading dharma into the ten directions.

Hm I am still not settled yet so I’ll continue searching…


Is home


A city in the land of Bengal, India

Where the Ganga flows though

To surrender herself to the divine Sea

Where the East meets West

Not so peacefully

Where everyday is a battleground

Of class, caste, race and ethnicity

Yet from chaos

Sometimes order ensues

After the traffic fog clears

The divine nature of things

Can be experienced by the river


When people bid farewell to their beloved ones

For no(body) lives on forever


When upper and lower castes all depend on the same river for survival

The Void

When the river fully absorbs and becomes the force acted upon it


It might be

That the concept of home is

Self-constructed by the Ego


It might be

That the concept of home is

Beyond the concept of space

Beyond the concept of time

And it is necessary to transcend these


It might be

That in order to transcend these

I need to clean up my sense of “I”

Wash off the mind’s dirt

Sweep the dust of cyclic existence

Clean up past karma

And purify all impurities


It might be

That home is a state of mind

Beyond consciousness

Or consciousness meeting consciousness

And exclaiming

Long time no see

It was about time my old friend

Welcome Home

Search no more

For you have finally arrived at your Destination.

Freedom of Thought

Freedom of thought

Like a bird

Flying around the world



Like a phoenix

Burning up impurities to ashes



Like a snow-lion

Hunting high up in the mountains



Like a tiger

Roaming the dark wilderness



Like a tortoise

Shelled by the Dharma



Like a fish

In the pure River of Life



Like a bamboo tree

Up into the heavenly Sky



Like a lotus

To spread its inner beauty to the world



Like the wind

Like the sound

Like the energy of Love

Echoing throughout the Universe