Cloud-River

BLANKET

2003, NOV. 23

 

The blanket

your mother made for you, you said

you were carrying it always with you

from one move to another

 

I used to see you sleeping wrapped in your blanket

whenever I came to visit

you used to work nightshifts

 

Was I obsessed with your body

or the domesticity in you

transmitted by your mother

through the blanket?

 

I was jealous of your blanket

envied the affection you received from your mother

represented in the blanket

how much I wished I had such a blanket

 

This obsession with a blanket

I could not received from my mother

I wanted my children carry such a blanket

and tell their lovers under the blanket

my mother made this blanket for me.

 

Why this obsession with the blanket?

rather than the coat also made by yur mother

I was naked under your blanket

no cloth to cover up my bare emotions and vulnerability.

 

Cloud-River

November 23, 2003

Montreal

A MAN WITH A THOUSAND FACES

2003, OCT.

 

A man with a Thousand Faces

 

Oh, Young man

A handsome one

with a contemplative posture of Persian air

 

A tender look you extend

stirs in me

a confusion of emotions

 

Awaking a sense of felinity

a feeling of brotherhood

a maternal instinct

 

When you came by one morning

just to say hello, you said

Your face was beaming

like a young boy who found his mother after a day long absence of her presence

like a lover who was confession

I missed you

after a gulf of eternity of a day

 

Oh, Young man

Am I erring

     in reading the shades of emotions

     in your melancholic eyes?

Or are you erring

     raising these emotions in me?

Or is it the autumn colours

     which send us to dig into our deeper souls?

 

The meeting of souls

Knowing no boundaries of ages

The mystery of life.

 

Cloud-River

Montreal

VIOLON ROUGE

2003, MARCH

 

A red violin

left on a chair near the window

looking out at the rose garden

used to make beautiful sounds

 

Sound of raindrops

sound of wind

sound of ecstasy

 

A red violin left alone on a chair the one who used to play it

gone for a long trip

 

Missing the hands dancing on its strings

the red violin

looking out of the window

watching the workd going by

trying to remember

the fading melodies played on it

 

Cloud-River

March 2003

Montreal

KOREAN ADOPTEES

2003, JAN.

 

By accident,

or maybe was it planned

I had an occasion to meet two Korean adoptees.

 

One was a young woman with a French nationality

The other was also a young woman with a Canadian nationality

Holding different nationalities

but speaking French as their mother tongue

Both had definite Korean ace

which could not be mistaken

 

Looking at them

one could not help pondering about the divine comedy of human fate

the forces of life beyond human control

 

Because the nation was poor

because the parents were poor

our children were given away (sold?)

to this country, to that country

 

They hold all the nationalities that the planet could offer

but their face is Korean

Faces different from their parent’

eyes different from their sisters and brothers

One wonders what paths of agony they went through

 

They have grown up

Now they are adults

Building the road for the future

revisiting the road they left behind

 

Looking for the family of origin

learning to speak the Korean language

they are preparing to visit their mother country

since they could not grow in it

they wish to study it from outside

 

Even if they do not speak ore an

even if they hold foreign nationalities

let us extend our arms wide open

to embrace them, to hold them tightly in our arms

 

But also let us reflect on our attitude towards children of mixed blood

the products of the tragedy of war

Because one half of their blood is foreign

we did not allow them a space in our society

Our children given away

Is it their fault to be born with mixed blood?

Is it the responsibility of their parents? of the war?

Or is it the responsibility of the shortcomings of us, the human beings?

 

These children of ours

who were given away

who are reaching out to their mother country

coming back to find a space in their mother’s womb

 

Let us open wide our arms

let us receive them warmly

so that they can find a sunshine in their heart

so that they can find a space in their motherland

that space we all need as human beings.

 

Cloud-river

January 2003

Après la soirée avec Adel et Miori

CARPET OF LIFE

2000

 

Why did I come to this life?

Why did you come to this world?

So that I can live with you

So that you can live with me

 

People say we control our live

Others say that the fate and ouside forces control our lives

Life is like a weaving a carpet

We choose the thread, colour…and weave

People and relationship are woven into the carpet

 

Carpet will be strong and bright

when we invest in those relationship

when we shine those relationship as we shine jewels

 

This carpet I weave

I am not the owner

My life is only a part of the carpet of the humanity

 

Life is a suffering and struggle, as a wiseman said

Our personal sufferings are only a part of

a larger carpet of suffering of the humanity

When attention is fixed on our own suffering,

     the pain enlarges

When we turn our gaze to the suffering of humanity

     the pain diminishes, the compassion enlarges

the living takes on a different meaning

 

Another year goes by

promising to myself that

the carpet I weave will be stronger and brighter

 

Cloud-river

2000, Montreal