Snow-covered bamboo leaves

"Snow-covered bamboo leaves"
by Azly Rahman

Today I looked out of my window. The world was white.
As white as the snow: falling and falling as if each snowflake must become
A postscript.
     Of the longest story ever told.

Each bit of snow fall become one amongst millions and billions.
Of snowflakes that will become a blanket of whiteness
That will be weaved like an endless design of a carpet of a story.
Again, postscripts of a life that will be concluded in white.

Today I looked out of my window. I saw not a single snowflake.
The world was not white.
     Leaves from those bamboo trees fall: falling as if each must
Become what a child’s dream is made of.
I saw a child barefoot
Playing with a blowpipe he made out of the postscript of his future.
Running, laughing.
      Away from his sorrows I suppose.
      He is a child of Nature.

He looked at me as I looked outside of my window.
We locked eyes.
I saw snowflakes.
I did not know what he saw.  From amongst  the bamboo trees his eyes pierced into mine..
He disappeared.
Not a smile.
Not a frown
           he offered as a gift.

In between the snowflakes and the bamboo leaves lie our story weaved.