Description
If you're reading this, a certain Korean has entrusted you with something that she doesn't hand over to everybody- several fragments of her soul. Be gentle, be blessed.
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River People
There flowed a river in my childhood
I never dared to cross.
I toed along the gravel banks,
Dreams and demons on my flanks,
Glancing at the deep crevasse.
One by one, my friends all crept away,
Drawn to the other side.
I stood in woodland, bare and wild,
Now they on beaches, sweet and mild,
Starry-eyed and satisfied.
Yet I doubted what the river held,
And kept to forest shore.
Across the gap, they called my name,
Wondering if I’d stay the same
For now and evermore.
Their distant beaches held a sparkling charm,
Their giddiness quite clear.
Beneath their palm trees, they were one,
United always in their fun,
And I, still courting doubt and fear.
My feral woodland looked so different,
Much duller, yet, more real.
Their palm trees flaunted plastic fronds,
Their shallow games, their only bonds,
To me held no appeal.
Still, now and then I felt the solitude
More sharply than the past.
I hesitantly slipped into
The river, all an untold blue,
And paddled in the deep and vast.
From there I saw the beaches bright,
And saw my woodland wild.
Then deserts, fields, a mountain high,
Tundras, swamps, below one sky,
I wondered like a child.
I saw the river served to separate
The way that people live.
They journey through the mixed terrains,
Sharing joys and sharing pains,
Learning how to give.
There is a certain path through life and time
That many choose to take.
My friends from lemmings split apart,
Peeling off to trust their hearts,
Yet keeping to the masses’ wake.
I sometimes go to meet my traveling friends
On mountain or in field.
But their paths always sweep them past,
And I return to river vast,
Misjudged and unrevealed.
I’m not the only river native, but
We swimmers scarcely meet.
The River People wade along,
Following the River’s song,
Silent, soft, and sweet.
We are the outcasts and the quiet ones,
Who can’t decide their style.
Friends of friendless,
Wandering endless,
Choosing to beguile.
And I, still slowly walking woodland wild,
Still swimming river great,
Am tasting of the mixed terrains,
Always separate to remain,
Trusting in my matchless fate. |
Posted: 11:25 PM, Monday, May 16, 2005 |
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