Oh God don’t take my tapestry
it’s all I’ve ever known!
These games and lies and fantasies
cannot become unsewn!
I’m holding on to every thread
to each color and each cord!
And if it helps me sleep at night
then that is my reward!
Oh God don’t take my tapestry
it’s all I’ve ever known!
These games and lies and fantasies
cannot become unsewn!
I’m holding on to every thread
to each color and each cord!
And if it helps me sleep at night
then that is my reward!
Rush on rum, sax and drum
A blue note, a love note for you
Oh sweet blindness, drink of kindness
I spy your heart, traveled far for you
Laughing with the boys, beat above the noise
Rush on rum, life on the run to you
Language is my orchestra
sometimes a lullaby
Emotion is the music
the Poet’s heart lives by
In the silence of my dreams
words go dancing through
An image just to beautiful
all logic out of view
An artist lives within me
a way of beating all the odds
The thorn on the rose bush
pricks discovery once again
All children start out poets
I just cannot let that go
Stir the mischief in the fire
and let enchantment flow
In the water off the coast of Saigon…what is now called Ho Chi Minh City there was a young girl who was nine years old and her cousin Mae was 12. I am Iris. The young girl is my Mother and this is our story…
Iris…
Sing Na Li is my mother. Her American name is Naomi Li. She is forty-nine years old. She owns two nail salons and has worked seven days a week since I can remember. We live in a nice house with four bedrooms and two and a half baths. My mother said this could never be imagined in Viet Nam. She has never been home again. She has never seen her Mother and Father since that day when her father handed her over the bow of a boat with her cousin to a woman from our village area. Grandfather had only enough money to get one of us out. As his only child he chose my Mother. She has made a good life she says with no regrets. She always said, “ Iris, you must not look back. You must always look forward. You must always be brave.”
I am not as brave as my Mother. I have an easy life. I want to be brave. I want to be like my Mother. I just graduated from a well-known University in Texas. I am an engineer. Naomi is very proud of me…
In the spring of 1975 the People’s Army of Vietnam were coming. They were sighted in the highlands of north of Saigon…Grandfather told my mother that she must go. He said, “I will die here in my body but you will take my dreams and my heart with you. You will go to America and you will give me many grandsons and granddaughters. I will not let you suffer in the way that is coming.”
Naomi did not understand everything Father said to her but she knew that she must obey. Her Mother never cried and she spoke very little. There was always a sadness in her deep set almond shaped eyes. Mother’s eyes spoke to me. They said women must be the strongest.
Soldiers with guns were everywhere. I was just a little girl but I had only known war. I could not tell who were the friendly soldiers and who were the enemy. I remember seeing an American soldier once and upon his helmet he had written “Welcome to hell.” I remember another sign written across the big building with the American flag and someone had written on it in my own language, “The gates of mercy have closed.”
I did not understand these words. My grandmother, who was very old, told my mother, “Do not be afraid my dear little one. You will be strong. You will live for all of us. They cannot hurt us if you live and that is what Mercy is…to live.”
The end came very quickly after years of shelling, starving, and never sleeping well. I had never known a time in my life when there was not war. We lived in an area of the city that had not been bombed but there was no electricity or running water. Many people were sick and many people died.
On April 28th, 1975 I was put upon a big boat, which I now know was one of a South Vietnamese navy vessel. There were thirty or so of these vessels crammed into the Saigon River. My cousin and I were so scared. There were so many people crowding onto the shore…I have forgotten a lot of it. People were stepping over us to get on the boat. At some point a man picked me up and put me in a corner of the boat with my cousin and told us to hold on to the railing and do not let go. Two days later President Minh surrendered unconditionally. I know that this is what killed my Father even though he died in battle.
After many days, I don’t know how long, we arrived in Guam. We stood in long lines and were processed to enter the United States. We were checked by a doctor and put in another line. Long gone were the rice and fruit Mother had given me.
I felt excitement mingle with fear as only a nine year old could. I longed to see Father, Mother, and Grandmother but I feared returning to Saigon. After many days we were placed in a city of tents as there were many children. We played and were given food and cots to sleep on. After what seemed many days Grandmother’s niece whom I had never met came and picked us up. We flew on a big airplane to Texas. That was the beginning of my American life.
Many Americans died for me and many other Americans said that they lost the Vietnam war but as for me, my brothers and sisters and my Mother Sing Na Li they did not lose. They won. They won it for us. I am a Vietnamese American. I am Iris. I am brave. I am an example of Mercy.
I walk by the gulf
the tide is out
the moon wanes half past blue
The salty brine
soothes my feet
and wildflowers thread the dunes
Jade green water
laps at the shore
my inner cathedral sings praise
I whisper to you
with gratitude
for the gift of another day.
I heard there was a party
not in this cage of flesh and bone
Since little or no magic’s here
I’m moving down the road
An invitation to the party
send me an inviting card
Just laughing in the Twilight
leaving earth won’t be so hard
I have visited the gutter
slept in a palace grand
I’m just a wandering woman
Shadowing the Promise Land
I was a lady lost in fiction
in love with a liar’s moon
Now Truth is my addiction
time will be forgotten soon.
Time is not a matter here
in the midnight hour
I sing to you my love song
though it be worn and tattered
I fell the deep wells of danger
of both your Joy and Light
To such will be the way of it
beneath the looming night
Come endure the midnight hour
where language has no name
Yet Hope and Hardship mingle
with your Faithfulness and Grace
All of the tourists have gone away
there are no more t-shirts for sale today
The rest of the locals are raising a toast
back to the quiet and the pull of the moon
No footprints in the sand, no hurrying to do
There is no other sky like October blue
the deep blue waves call out to you
My heart is captured by the lure of the Sea
That autumn wind still carries me
I want to walk on the beach in my old sweatshirt
just looking for shells and listen to the surf
Photo by MOHI SYED on Pexels.com
The silence seeped into the windows
like a room that has been shut up for some time
where a fly hits the glass over and over
with the same result and rhyme
We use to dance to Brown Eyed Girl
and drink Elderberry wine
I could swear she was an angel
when she said her heart was mine
A man can mess up so many things
still she stayed with me through the night
Now I make my final days with only her
for in the end she is all that I ever got right
The gifts that I have received as a nurse could fill a book…here is on of those precious golden nuggets that I carry with me…
“The truth is when people aren’t around I sleep a lot.” said the one hundred four-year old. Her Baltic sea blue eyes sparkle when she speaks. “You know I sleep to save up energy for these well-worn cells so I can enjoy it when I go out and see my family…children, grand children, great grand children, and even great great grandchildren…it is so much fun for me.”
“You know when you reach your fifties, sixties, and seventies you worry that you will get sick. If you live through those decades and don’t die from cancer or heart disease or stroke you feel young again even though you are old.”
“When you are in your thirties and forties you are robust and feel you have this short window to “Make a life” for yourself and your children, measuring success by land marks such as houses, cars, income, and education… Anyone below thirty is truly just a baby still…people don’t believe me because a twenty or thirty year old think they know everything and really they don’t.”
I sat down in the chair by her hospital bed and she smiled. She said, “What I see after living this long is everyone is so noisy and in a rush to reach somewhere beyond the life they have now. It is such a waste of the moment, of the joy intended for us. It is actually good NOT to know everything. Knowledge is no good anyway without character, without pain and disappointment.”
As she lay her head back on her pillow I notice the elegance in her posture and the way her hands lay so beautifully on her lap. “these hands she said have touched so much life and I am always reminded that life is so wonderful and tragic at the same time. I have seen war, slavery, and needless cruelty but I have also seen the most beautiful sunrises and sunsets. I have walked the beach and climbed the mountain. I have seen God there. I have heard babies cry and five minutes later laughing so purely and without malice. I have seen death and know that it doesn’t last nor it is the “end” of any part of me.”
As she closed her eyes she sighed, “Life is a wonder and a gift…God’s wisdom is NOT locked away from us. It is given to us everyday if we will listen and then receive it…don’t ever forget that.” I have not forgotten that sweet lady and her words…and her life spark still lives on in me…