the wooden fence waits,
as the red hibiscus flowers bloom
rain water dulling its sheen
from golden young to grey old
harsh sun splinters wide-eyed
hollows to deep grooves and lines
weaving days and nights into years,
while waiting for the green light
or maybe the white star we saw
when we drank rice wine with fish and chips
or maybe the white peacock we passed
walking hand in hand, east and west entwining
i wrote and recorded a love poem just for you,
and wore my country's native dress, the colour you love
as i choose not to cross the border and stay
where my soft voice is steel and sword
every morning, i pluck the single red flower
and tuck it behind my ear
i know you will always be
waiting for me at the other side of the lake
Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Poetics : Borders hosted by Claudia Schoenfeld.
My inspiration for this post is the life story of Burma's Aung San Suu Kyi.
" That 1995 visit was the last time Michael and Suu were ever allowed to see one another. Three years later, he learnt he had terminal cancer. He called Suu to break the bad news and immediately applied for a visa so that he could say goodbye in person. When his application was rejected, he made over 30 more as his strength rapidly dwindled. A number of eminent figures – among them the Pope and President Clinton – wrote letters of appeal, but all in vain. Finally, a military official came to see Suu. Of course she could say goodbye, he said, but to do so she would have to return to Oxford.
The implicit choice that had haunted her throughout those 10 years of marital separation had now become an explicit ultimatum: your country or your family. More ~ "
picture credit: here