21:03.

There's beauty in a pheasant's wings

And for that I thank God.

For there's beauty every where.

Despite everything.

Walking out of the company is especially delightful when there's some sun left in the sky. When there is, on my way out, I would turn and look over the giant canal in front of the company at the patch of sunset still left. Sometimes, some bit of the sun still peeks at me despite the concrete jungle, and its orange glow always cast a beauty sheen over the water in the huge canal. [Note: It ain't a longkang, but a clean huge canal. Heh.]

There are certain routes that I always love walking on.

Back before I was 17, it was that walk home from Hong Dao Primary. The straight pathway right next to the fences of Yio Chu Kang Secondary, then a small road, then a HDB block, then a little zebra crossing before I walked under another HDB block before I can see mine.

I walked pass those fences with my head sideways too. Seldom with my head ahead at the road ahead of me, but on the grass patches besides me because you never know what you could find. Or so I used to think. I once thought a old strip of broken rubber tyre was a dead snake and told every friend walking home with me that it was a snake. And they believed me. Then one day, I realised I was wrong.

I loved too the walk home from the library that laid beyond the primary school. I used to talk to myself as I walk that path home, lugging books. Over the years, I dragged Melody Maker, pop culture books, Faust, comics, various vampire fiction, cheem stuff I couldn't yet understand like Mere Christianity... home. And as I carried the books and walked, I would talk to myself when I was sure no one was around. Dreams, fantasties, questions were hatched, voiced and given much thought on those journeys.

Now, my two favourite walks are the one leading out of the office and the one leading home. And when the weather's cool, and I'm in sensible shoes, the walks home from the MRT, me always raising my head up to stare at stars, those walks, they still my soul too.

Someone asked me the other day if working life has torn the stars from my eyes like it did for her. I said no. Maybe if that question was asked of me in late 2002, or early 2003, there was a point when I could have said yes. But no.

And the other night, I looked up again and tried to find Orion. Felt a bit sad when I couldn't. There was a sliver of a moon out, a pale crescent. I remembered staring out at the night time sky on another continent.

There is beauty in the pheasant's wings.

The world shouts a Hallelujah to our God.

I pause, close my eyes for a moment and felt tears spring out. I feel crippled almost with thanksgiving and awe.

He is so beautiful.