Lost puppy, baby ostrich,
fancy pants guppie
3 years old again
big eyes, piglet curly q tails
combed shiny by Grandma,
Who raised me in Korea by herself,
after already raising 5 daughters alone after widowhood.
I’m running like the Flash in my red bright sandals
a tiny female Hermès launched into the breakneck world
through blood mud puddles of trauma
glass sparkling shards of violence
Avoid them even though they’re pretty
says grandma from afar
She’s star far away now
after eclipsing death through memory
Morse code using colors,
ancient graphs, maps, signs, symbols and riddles.
But I’ve forgotten what each means
mixed the patterns with sound beams
can no longer commune with navigating whales
or translate bird migration orbits,
birth death sacred cycles
timed in Akashic, Red Road, Dream Time landscape.
I’ve lost my way back home.
Grandma says don’t fear
fan trance swirling drumming as I spin
singing mountain songs
of how the bear lured the tiger
and now they’re married and
if you whistle snakes will come.
I’m wiping tears from your face
I’m carrying you on my back
in dark light, wintertime dreaming,
still teaching you the names of each tree and edible green
in rhymes and woodland adventures
It’s fun when you make it a game, she says,
It’s both Good: to Forget and Remember.