Dream Infection

My piano is dead,
few broken tones – then,
drowning in silence.

Grandpa returned,
to Neverland,
last night.

Moon’s silver path,
over the sea,
walking to eternity.

Crossed the White Bridge,
becomes young,
love reunited.

He is forever,
a visionary economist,
a romantic.

A man who,
believed in love,
and its destiny.

He loves grandma,
from the first sight,
’til his last breath.

A revolutionary,
among Siam’s
earliest economists.

Inequality,
cooperatives,
and access to finance.

These terms were,
there since,
my childhood.

His last words,
to me was,
“I’m still into the affair of the State”.

Truly a man,
of Neverland.

Will you be there,
when I wake up,
little universe?

Marching,
to the unknown,
looking back,
no one follows.

Hearing,
my old piano,
under water.