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Sometimes he wonders if there is such a moment in life when he sees the scene in his dreams. It’s so familiar, what he used to long for is right in front of him, that he can’t help but walk deep into it and stay therein. And it’s not about waking. As he looks back where the dream begins, makes him realize that this is reality not dreams. But the mist comes, as the rain and the flowing time also come.

The orchids may sit high on the branch, but the cat still visits, anyway. Is it the butterfly attached to the flower pistil, or is it the pistil that dreams of the butterfly? Is it the lost …