China China Ching Ching
Whoo-hoo! goes the choo-choo to China land, all fragrant and full of lovely spring flowers, ready for delivery to the secret ladies of Beijing. They wait in their parlors for the blooms, setting up the turquoise vases, chilling the water and putting the Beethoven on the phonograph.
They anticipate the great moment when all of the harmonies will meet and mix and match and then float away again into the empty sky, to amuse and enhance some other parlor, far away.
Meanwhile, in Alabama, in the lush hills overlooking a suburban golf course, a young boy looked skyward and heard the chattering from China. He felt the wisdom contained therein, but could not make out the exact syllables. So, down he went, through the lush trees and thick grasses, dragging his dragon kite behind him. On the side of the golf course, he grabbed the string and ran and ran, catching the breeze and setting his craft aloft. Way up high in the cool, swirling blue, the dragon tail wagged and wiggled with an abandon it had never known.
Back in Beijing, Madame Lao sensed the stirring deep within and saw the dragon face in her heart. She picked up the hand mirror on the mahogany table beside her and looked inside her exquisite eyes. Then she was the dragon and she was flying. She saw the golf course below, the greens and their cute little flags, the meandering stream on its edge. She saw the men below, delicately holding their sticks and focusing their minds on the little ball. What a beautiful garden of geometries and mysteries. Anything could happen there. It was the vastness of the universe itself.
She took the reins of the kite herself at this point and waved goodbye to the little boy. He saw her beaming face and wished her luck.
"Thank you, Michael," she said, as she ascended higher and higher. Below, the city became smaller and smaller, until it was only a patch of grays and lines, enveloped by the fertility of the South. She began let herself drift farther and farther. Hours passed as her delirium took her over racetracks, swamps and shark-infested seas. Eventually she found herself over the Caribbean, a fine, delicious pool of greens and pale blues.
"Do I know where I'm going?," she wondered to herself. "Yes, I do. I am going to heaven." As she left the earth's pull, she never laughed louder.
Whoo-hoo! goes the choo-choo to China land, all fragrant and full of lovely spring flowers, ready for delivery to the secret ladies of Beijing. They wait in their parlors for the blooms, setting up the turquoise vases, chilling the water and putting the Beethoven on the phonograph.
They anticipate the great moment when all of the harmonies will meet and mix and match and then float away again into the empty sky, to amuse and enhance some other parlor, far away.
Meanwhile, in Alabama, in the lush hills overlooking a suburban golf course, a young boy looked skyward and heard the chattering from China. He felt the wisdom contained therein, but could not make out the exact syllables. So, down he went, through the lush trees and thick grasses, dragging his dragon kite behind him. On the side of the golf course, he grabbed the string and ran and ran, catching the breeze and setting his craft aloft. Way up high in the cool, swirling blue, the dragon tail wagged and wiggled with an abandon it had never known.
Back in Beijing, Madame Lao sensed the stirring deep within and saw the dragon face in her heart. She picked up the hand mirror on the mahogany table beside her and looked inside her exquisite eyes. Then she was the dragon and she was flying. She saw the golf course below, the greens and their cute little flags, the meandering stream on its edge. She saw the men below, delicately holding their sticks and focusing their minds on the little ball. What a beautiful garden of geometries and mysteries. Anything could happen there. It was the vastness of the universe itself.
She took the reins of the kite herself at this point and waved goodbye to the little boy. He saw her beaming face and wished her luck.
"Thank you, Michael," she said, as she ascended higher and higher. Below, the city became smaller and smaller, until it was only a patch of grays and lines, enveloped by the fertility of the South. She began let herself drift farther and farther. Hours passed as her delirium took her over racetracks, swamps and shark-infested seas. Eventually she found herself over the Caribbean, a fine, delicious pool of greens and pale blues.
"Do I know where I'm going?," she wondered to herself. "Yes, I do. I am going to heaven." As she left the earth's pull, she never laughed louder.
posted by yatsu at 2:14 PM
