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!

The Deserts

Joshua Tree National Park – Mar 2017 

The high winds were blowing thru the stone mountains on the deserts
Stirring the fragile yellow cups on the sand
And shaking the unusually long spikes of the pink ocotillo

I stood breathing in the life of the deserts
Trembling inside
Imagining all the rich life forces going on days and nights

Reckoning how hard the cacti, the joshua trees, the caterpillars
Compete for water and food and sunlight
I felt a wave of gratefulness

The call of love and life was somewhere between the blue sky
And the laughter of the boys climbing the yellow stone mountain peaks
Pleasingly I moved on.

Us

Santa Cruz - July 2016 ©
Santa Cruz РJuly 2016 ©

We met somewhere in the movie
Where the Disney princess has unbelievably long golden hair
Which could heal injuries and keep you young forever
I wish I could borrow her hair
To mend my broken soul

We met somewhere among the clouds
Where we were day dreaming about love and life
Until we both fell off to reality
And one of us giggled

We met somewhere at Waikiki beach
Where time was adventurously stretched
And the passage of events were carved
Into layers of our cherished memories

We met somewhere between the lines
When silence became words
And we keep reading and writing our lives
Together all the way

Jan 1st 2017

Will the new year bring in
new dreams and new hopes
as bright as the Christmas tree
to lighten the weary souls
as deep as thousands of incarnations old?

The memories of 2016
are merely patches or spots
in the infinite timeline
however beautiful they were
or painful as they made you endure

The enlightened voice is still calling out
from over two thousand years past
I listened and liberated myself
to become as light as a snowflake
twirling in the air

Let’s empty 2016
And paint the new year with a brightest color
you could ever visualize
And start the new year fresh off
as it’s rolling in.

Happy New Year!

September

for my birthday month

Chilly September. The doorway to a new season. I could smell the aroma of cinnamon emanating from the pastries when walking by the bakery this morning.

It was in September many yeas ago that my mouth was full of mom’s breast milk. The flamboyant was not blooming in red anymore. The shooting in the battlefield shook the lullaby hovering over my cradle.

September, the genesis of many things in life. I remember the shining smiles carved in the white waves at Vung Tau beach. The giggling by the chayote vine of my grandma in Dalat. The warm eyes of the little girl enlivened by the candlelight lit inside the pigeon-shaped lantern during the full moon festival.

September, the onset of death and decay and deterioration. How many tears I have shed and filled up rivers and oceans. Which one I wonder will be the last to roll into the deep blue ocean.

The Lone Tree

The Dragon mountain at sunset

Parched in the sunlight,

Witnessing the passage of time,

The small tree stands by itself

On the Dragon mountain peak

Contemplating its loneliness-

An unavoidable condition

Of its existence.

Does it ever have

Any sense of belonging?

Does it ever feel free?

The tree stands bearing

Life’s impermanence

Lakes will vaporize

Green grasses will turn golden

Spring comes and goes

Prisoners of Time.