Molten bronze in a string of droplets, dancing and hovering over the heads of passing travelers and stopping our feet, mimicking the sway of the ocean.
Forests, so tall they have asked for protection from the lightning, and so old, they remember a time when they had a truce with the sky.
We went across the city in a second it seemed, to another forest. A half sister to the forests we know, in her state of half life; truly dead in her wrought iron branches and truly alive in the first moments of a night’s true darkness- I have never seen such colors dance to such music, such stars tie to the tangle of her trunk and canopy.
And in the harbors of an ocean bay, water leaping from its place in a mist, to show words. We couldn’t make them out and unable to say more, it discarded the letters and ran the jagged line of a pulse as if to scream “I have a heart, I live too”, and finally we understood.
We, at last, found ourselves above the skyline and seeing no end to the vastness of the city, began to believe the towers when they said they were kings, holding battleships above their heads and mountains in their walls.
We have stayed, not for long, but just enough in Singapore.