A Poem for My Mother 2017

If we need to talk about mother’s love
Then yours is everything that is grand, pure and sweet
Which has nourished and lifted me up
Thru all life’s ups and downs

The day I left for the faraway land
You carried one more burden of missing your children
On your slender shoulders
As delicate as the words you wove into poems
And blew across the Pacific ocean

Despite all the burdens and suppression
Imposed upon you by a conservative society
You strove and lived on
Like a lotus rising above the mud
Like a buttercup glowing in the green grass
Like an eagle soaring in the sky

In the chaotic time that we live in
Where the handmaids march on the streets of Texas
And Princess Ida cries again on the stage
For women’s rights to education and independence
You are an exemplar who inspires me
To have a free spirit, an open mind,
And be a strong willed woman

You are honey and hammer to me
And you will always be.

Happy Mother’s Day to my Mom
And all the mothers of the past,
the present, and the future!

48th Anniversary 

You set foot on an unknown path assuming
It would be lined with roses and poetry
It turned out it was not like honey and nectar
But you went on since it was a fact of life

You endured all the hardships on the way
The days without electricity
The floor flooded with water when it was pouring outside
The allocation of food and water

You lived and dreamed of a brighter future
Sustained by the fruits grown on the path
Oh how fresh and delighted and adorable
You sucked them in and overcame
All the adversities in life.

Happy 48th Anniversary to Mom and Dad!

F.G.

Having experienced all life’s
ups and downs, he accepted it

with grace. Think death.
Think life. Months, weeks,

days, hours. Two sides
of a matter. The numbers

on the screen were flickering-
blood pressure, heart rate,

respiration rate, oxygen level.
The body had fought back

all pains and illnesses until
all sufferings were gone.

Who is able to comprehend
the loss? Only tears and grief

will be lingering in the air,
contained in the hand-

crafted wooden jewelry box,
hovering over the grape vine,

mixed in the home-made
chicken parmesan years after

he’s gone to heaven
rejoice and be glad.

R.I.P, F.G.