In the depths of silence, music sounded.

It’s been a long, long time since I’ve been like this, but this night I was ignited and moved by music again.

Music is like water, coming over the top. Without light, we would be suffocating and confused.

I threw my body into the hollow, sank, and then disappeared like a nightmare.

Falled in the folds of night. I listen for intimacy and conversion that comes from within. At this moment, I am my own helmsman, walking at night in the direction you have guided me.

Starting from the farthest distance are the trembling strings. It is the butterfly wings in the dream. It's a dialogue when I'm awake alone. It was the mother's rough fingertips that stroked the hairline. It is the soft sigh of the plum blossoms tiptoeing under the thin snow. It is the reflection of the moonlight shining through the treetops.

It is separation, cutting, and cannot be owned. It's drowning, burying, and being caught off guard.

It is the flame burning under the water. It's a beam of light bursting through the clouds. It is a clear spring flowing from a stone. Silent and rich. Clear and dry. Passionate and cold.

I don’t know where you come from or where you are going. You have long hair and are tired. You are a lonely traveler. You are walking with your shadow.

We will never meet, but I hold your hand.

The gap in the past has been opened, and the secret back garden is so clean. The sky is filled with stars and looks ethereal.

Tonight, I will walk or sleep peacefully in your singing.