Scenery veiled by night, slips by me unseen as I look down into lamp-lit waters flaring like folds of skirt decorated with frothed lace trailing behind as the ship cruises through calm waters. The vacant night, creates in me a feeling of isolation; tired for slumber I seek the comfort of my bunk-bed, snuggle under soft covers and entrust myself to the bearing me safely to new visions when day dawns.

First sign of nearing a harbour are small fishing boats, they increase in number, their lights just small eyes in the dark before dawn breaks.
Humidity hangs heavy, a curtain of haze lingers unwilling to disperse, and the lightening day reveals the beauty of nearby tropical islands sprinkled along the Malacca Straight, their green humps dark against the pinky-bronze sheen of water blended to horizon’s same hazed splendour.
Magnificent in morning’s reflected metallic-like vision.

Each country, a house with many rooms, a garden waiting for some of it to be seen by me, where-in I wrap its worth up in my heart to be relived when no longer in my visual line. Every day being a new page leafed through, capturing to memory scene and culture of where I visit. Tucking away like a pleasurable secret garden, to suffice my thirst in drought-times of my mundane life. A snap-shot of a moment journey, filed, and relived time and again.

3/2001

10/08/2001

Posted on 10/08/2001
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