A Terces

By Ginny Sophomore

1st February 2022

And they were united not even with a hue and cry as she had envisioned it in the many an imaginary imaging of what would transpire in the instant of their unity, for many moons.

She had created a secret social media account and commented on his post of fruits, no less, identifying the types of fruit and naming them, a kind of challenge he posed to his following over there. The fruits of their love and endearment would manifest itself in to fruition just like that. As he recognized her not only in the mind fangled manacles but in virtual reality and this is how they came to exchange sparking hearts and hugs in emojis ๐Ÿ–ค bringing them together in no uncertain terms.

So there it happened and they were dumb struck while they also swore to each other that they would keep this liaison a complete secret from the rest of the planet.

Life moved on as usual with no one knowing what had just been created in this planet. A humongous creation of a relationship beyond the iota of any belief.

They hid themselves in her writing as he did so in his music as this bonding took to the web hidden away from all in plain sight. It was there and at the same time it was not there.

Magic had truly taken a hold of them and so was the planet engulfed in magic with not an inkling of a knowledge of it having done so in the eyes and the minds of those who inhabited this place. They were all going ahead in oblivion. It was good to watch how these Saturnians related to each other and themselves, oblivious of being observed by the pair of love struck lovers of a secret love.

The rest of them were still tuned to the old grid. They were talking and behaving in the old manner of doing so. No depth of love or feeling, just going after the material gain. Mooney was their ambition and everything in their lives were arranged towards achieving this goal. They did not realize that all they had to do to get this mooney was to do nothing.

For, she had read and devoured this poem by Taoist master Chuang Tzu from many centuries ago perhaps, and she stumbled upon it having written it down a few years ago and recently having refreshed her mind on it and having added it to a Collection of her poems!

What do you think, it was the first day of Chinese New Year ๐Ÿงง or the Lunar New Year ๐Ÿฎ๐ŸŽŽ and everybody Chinese or thereabouts like in Vietnam ๐Ÿ‡ป๐Ÿ‡ณ were celebrating ๐ŸŠ๐ŸŠ the new year this time around like those past few years, in almost stark silence! The Year of the Tiger hopefully was going to be better for the people of this planet than those that preceded. These were years of the Trauma having been around in its worst possible way!

Itโ€™s amazing how your mind works. Never did she imagine sheโ€™d reach out to this poem of all poems, and on this auspicious of all days. She pulled it out of her documents and began transcribing with a fervor yet unknown.

The Lost Pearl

The Yellow Emperor went wandering
To the north of the Red Water
To the Kwan Lun Mountain.
He looked around
Over the edge of the world
on the way home
He lost his night-colored pearl.
He sent out Science to seek
his pearl, and got nothing
He sent Analysis out to look
for his pearl, and got nothing.
He sent out Logic to seek his
pearl, and got nothing.
Then he asked Nothingness, and
Nothingness had it!
The Yellow Emperor said:
โ€œStrange indeed: Nothingness
Who was not sent
Who did no work to find it
Had the night-colored pearl!

As she wrote she amazingly receives a red money packet or an โ€œangpowโ€ as itโ€™s called, as tradition would have it, from her family! She opens it and finds a Benjamin Franklin smiling back at her ๐Ÿ˜Š

This is crazy ๐Ÿ˜

Crazy ๐Ÿ˜› good is all she could say ๐Ÿ˜Š The fruits of her labour already being acknowledged in the nicest of ways ๐Ÿ’ต!

So this only goes to mean that she has been gifted ๐ŸŽ ๐Ÿ’ both in cash and in kind. She couldnโ€™t find a better way of saying it. Did this mean this year was the year that she would finally find herself in the arms of her much yearned for secret lover becoming a secret no more?!!

Far too many resonances were resonating, like now, it was her memory going back to the turntable in her grandparentsโ€™ home going – โ€œOur secret loveโ€™s no secret anymoreโ€!!! By Bing Crosby! Which, for some reason, she just doesnโ€™t seem to be able to add to her story ๐Ÿคจ

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