It was a rainy day and enchanted on first sight of this stone structure with triangular stones, the name “concrete brook” came to mind.

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It is much like fate

the hour, the day,

the route you take

It’ll take awhile before you see

pebbles like fallen claddings,

pebbles like fossilised spikes

upon a brook that laughs just as she weeps

Effervescent and gushing when it rains,

astral waters weave and flow—

crissing lefts and crossing rights,

licking deadened leaves in search for life,

babbling on to those pebbles bright

On a sunbeat day, you’ll find her

quiet, still

concrete without a brook

you may walk beside her, wishing

stroke tingling fingers, coaxing

or you may actually be thinking:

“why don’t the Esplanade people just pump some water ah?”

Well, isn’t it more interesting that a concrete brook could run dry?

Isn’t it funny that a concrete brook is too,

at mercy of rain and shine?

It is much like fate

the hour, the day,

the route you take.

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This track is part of the audio tour, Eye-to-I, a programme under Voices – A Festival of Song 2021.