A film by Jim Jarmusch,
Tells a story that poem could be as minimal as our daily life,
You put words into pieces that are loose,
Somehow they compose themselves into a coherent and meaningful way,
With subtle and slow tempo,
Like we are drinking a tea,
With slow realization,
The particular taste of the tea flows out,
And it takes time,
Eventually we see ourselves more clearly,
Gradually interpret things more completely.
Sometime we need to be alone,
To observe things we encounter,
And sometime it’s okay we don’t share,
Because poem will represent ourselves,
The slow realization of living with others,
That matter or don’t matter.
It’s okay to have a routine life,
It’s okay you are separated from the modern world,
As far as you enjoy the little interaction with strangers,
And the people you love,
Which doesn’t need digital devices to communicate.
Sometime the world like to make a joke in our life,
Sometime we lose the most important thing we have been keep doing,
Sometime we could start over,
And it’s never too late.