Cosmos of Mind

Through the tomography’s tungsten lens, 
I saw a strange constellation, like that of the cosmos —
It was shaped like a labyrinth.

The ephemeral nature of the scene drew a paradox 
to the striking intricacy of the view— 
And a myriad of nebulae flashed beyond my sight, 
pulses send here and there.

Its flashing vista encapsulated me 
in a state of utter perplexity,  
And caught me mesmerized
by its ever-enigmatic nature.

Then was when, amidst the cascade of vividness, 
where I witnessed a wild tempest, 
an enigmatic oblivion, the cosmos of my mind.

A Matter of Perspective 

All that could be seen was a glimpse of light 
breaking through the metal wall. 
There was a room
one covered with red paint, yet shallow.
Coated with slick mahogany paint on the outside,
its surface reflected a smooth brilliance. 

Hovering across the horizon, 
all that could be seen was a square of red, 
standing alone in the midst of an intersection.

Bikes, cars, and children sped fast through the road
And the city bustled with vivacity, 
Yet it seldom had any visitors.
Only when men dressed in blue caps went by
was it ever visited
 
Lying on the ground, nothing could be seen but darkness
the wall was illuminated from its left, right, front, and back,
and a slight hue of red. 

Wind was bustling through, in and out
as if it were to tickle the empty hollows 
of the lonely red box.

Here

The middle-aged men
wearing a fuzzy, apricot hood
and a brand-new purple hat
waves towards a child
who is running across the street 
with a big smile on his face 

The young man,
leaning towards an old wall
made of reddish bricks and grey stones
is wrapped around a brown leather jacket
and a white turtle-neck. 

crossing the street light 
with a crooked expression, 
A teenage girl with her right eyebrow lifted
both her ears are covered
with a set of headset 
that is decorated with stars-stickers 

A student wearing a uniform
is riding bicycle across the river,
her hair fluttering golden in sunlight. 
Holding a briefcase in one hand 
and a light-blue  duffel bad bag behind her back, 
she closed her eyes
sniffing the soothing smell of soil and grass; 

A street-singer
wearing hot-pink skinny jean
recites her song atop of a brisk cardboard box. 
Holding her guitar one hand 
and a bottle of water on another, 
she looks up into the sky, 
up into the baking sun.

Alina Lee is a high school student at an international school in Seoul, South Korea. Her writing explores memory, identity, and the quiet moments between people. When she’s not writing, she enjoys hiking, running, and playing the ukulele. Her work is inspired by the natural world and the rhythms of everyday life.