In the Zen, I see it…
In the Zen, I see you…

Little Sammie
The lady with long black hair and skinny fingers
Holding her little boy, pulling him closer to her chest
softly touching massaging his currly soft brown hair
The little boy was almost stop-breathing
listening to his mom’s heartbeats and associate it’s like the sounds of the cuckoo-clock on the white-wooden-wall in his room
Thic, thic, thic
Thic thic thic
Thic thic
Thic thic, not tik tik
because his ears were all covered so he hardly hear anything clearly
For a moment Little Sammie wanted to stop the sound…
For a moment Little Sammie wished to stop the time…
But he was a smart boy
Smart boy was so scared…
Every kid has so much wisdom because they are still fresh
They just came from the land of Gods not long ago
They still have deep connection with God, with the mystery, with the existence.
Sammie was a little boy still
That’s why he has such wisdom about the wishes
That’s why he was scare of his own wish
and very careful before saying his wish on words…
For a moment he wished to stop the time
For a moment he wished his mother not to leave…
but he also knows well, if the time somehow stops
if those thic thic sounds somehow stop,
means his mom’s heart would stop also…
So he wants it to stop and the same time he doesn’t want it to stop, ever
Ohh little boy was so scared
So much scared inside makes himself stonning like a statue
And that’s why he has the look like a statue made by marble
He is always beautiful as a statue since he was born.
The lady in deep-plum-silk-shawl covering herself and the little boy in her arms
Little Samie feel like he was in a morning dim fog, but red, not white, not grey
And of course not great!
The lady looks deep into her boy’s big brown eyes
Whispering “don’t cry, Little Sammie, don’t cry”
But on her own face, tears are falling as a summer rain in a summer day
Unstopable…
A warm and salty rain
Unstopable…
Tears have showering on little Sammi’s face
He couldn’t decide if he likes it or hate it
He does enjoy it but it feels bad to admit such a “crime”…
His mommy is crying
He loves her tears and he hates them too
“Baby, don’t cry…”
Little Sammie was a good boy, he obeys his mom’s request.
He won’t cry, so he keeps all his tear right there behind the long eyelash
He hold them on, hold them on forever if he could
The tears make his big brown eyes even more big
The tears make his glitter eyes even more twinkle
That’s why Little Sammie always has big shiny eyes
And that’s why they’re always look wet…
The lady couldn’t help herself to let him go and leave…
She couldn’t admit it was her, herself – the boat was trying to hold on the anchor…
The strangers in long jackets with the colour of ripe-plums
gently whispering “it’s time, my lady”
“My lady…” Little Sammie repeats
Little Sammie do not know those strangers but he still gives them big respect
He knows, again, with his fresh wisdom from the connection with gods
He knows that those plum-people would take good care of mommy
For him…
Little Sammie still stonning, keep his face as cool as any statue
Little beautiful boy was trying to hold on all his tears
Didn’t want to let them break the dam of eyelashs
And fail mommy…
He made a promise to himself he would never fail her – “my lady”
Little Sammie was a real man even before he growning up
“Won’t you blame me, Sammie?”
“Will you look for me when you grown up?”
The lady wanted to ask but there is no space for words in such a moment
There is no space for anything in such a moment,
All her senses were so focusing on feeling her little boy a little bit more
The last thing Little Samie hear
Was the sounds thic thic slowly fadding away
The last thing Little Sammie see
Was his mom’s beautiful hands giving him many distance-kisses from her plum-colour-lips
The last thing Little Samie hearing from her trembling-sweet-voice
“Namaste, my baby, namaste!”
Little Samie repeats “Namaste, momie!”
and tears start falling out of his eyelash like a waterfall
washing his whole beautiful little statue face
it was never be seen again on this earth
when a marble statue can cry
pouring his bless to his dearly lady…
It was 3, in the morning
when the sun was still sleeping but its light started appeared here and there in the winter forest
lighting up the maple trees
redding up the maple trees
so red…
when the red-light was covering the whole earth
Little Sammie couldn’t handle it no more
he closed his eyes
holding his breath
and when he open them again
he see himself as Sammie, wakeing up on his bed
but not a “little Sam” anymore…
It was 3 in the morning
when the sun was still sleeping but its light started lighting up the maple trees in the winter forest
which covered by a light-grey fog
Sammie looks into the forest outside his window and waiting for the light slowly red-up the maple leaves
He knows it is the time!
Closing the eyes, take a deep breath
With his palms together on his chest – the namaste
Big Sammie now whispering “Yes, my lady, I will find you!”
by Phi, 29/7/2022