Open the title page of modern poetry

one

I am thinking in my mother's cradle.

Blue sky, stars, clouds

Bright, shiny, dark

Like a book with a rock page.

When mother opened it.

I looked, and it was full of periods.

Big, small, new and old

Plain, interesting, ancient and realistic.

I don't understand.

I practice walking on my mother's knee.

Stone, sand, mud, uneven

Straight, curved, narrow and wide.

Like a mess of grass.

Mother pointed out one by one.

The road to light or mystery

Go astray

There are endless smooth roads.

And misty fog.

And frozen snow and ice.

Even if they lead to darkness.

The road is also busy with pedestrians.

two

I opened the pages of the rock myself.

I saw it said "danger, danger"

At the age of 22, I consciously understood the meaning of four words.

But I just want to tell my mother.

What is the situation of Ren?

I'm not afraid.

I just want to be able to read on.

Whatever the outcome.