|
Silently, I Listen with My Heart
¡°What's inside me, I don't let it out;<o:p></o:p>
what's outside me, I don't let it in.<o:p></o:p>
If someone comes in, he goes right out again--he has nothing to do with me at all.<o:p></o:p>
I am a doorkeeper of the Heart, not a lump of wet clay.¡±<o:p></o:p>
Sitting on the high mountain, far away from the dregs of the city, she reads to us<o:p></o:p>
all, with her mild tone, not too intense, not too weak, not too passionate, not too<o:p></o:p>
hesitative. <o:p></o:p>
Silently, I listen with my heart.<o:p></o:p>
¡°I¡¯m shy by nature. I somehow have a hard time sharing my <o:p></o:p>
feelings.¡± She smiles humbly and becomes quiet.<o:p></o:p>
I remember this quietness somewhere else. Yes, in my own heart.<o:p></o:p>
The quietest time I ever remembered in my life, was when they told me dad left.<o:p></o:p>
When I was a little girl and got beaten, I was quiet afterwards.<o:p></o:p>
I was always quiet, and my mom always had to come into my room, to check <o:p></o:p>
what makes me so quiet. <o:p></o:p>
I used to love it when it was quiet. Now looking back, with all <o:p></o:p>
the responsibilities and choices, I regret of being quiet.<o:p></o:p>
It¡¯s quietness, which makes they think that I don¡¯t care. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
¡°Some time ago a crazy dream came to me, <o:p></o:p>
I dreamt I was walking into World War Three.¡±<o:p></o:p>
Sitting besides the bright window, with opulent sunshine coming from his back, <o:p></o:p>
he reads, with a steady and arrogant voice. <o:p></o:p>
Silently, I listen with my heart.<o:p></o:p>
The teacher tells him, he¡¯d better come to the class if he cares. <o:p></o:p>
¡°But I don¡¯t. ¡°He replies. He is the morning star, nice and cool, lonely and bright. <o:p></o:p>
I care, a lot, about teachers, friends, parents, relatives. <o:p></o:p>
I care, a lot, about grades, classes, majors, jobs, salaries, reputations.<o:p></o:p>
I care, a lot, about next day¡¯s meal, next week¡¯s cell phone bill, next month¡¯s <o:p></o:p>
rent, next year¡¯s school.<o:p></o:p>
He cares, a about himself¡ªwhat he really likes.<o:p></o:p>
¡°Well, I spied a girl and before she could leave, <o:p></o:p>
¡®let¡¯s go and play Adam and Eve.¡¯¡± <o:p></o:p>
He giggles, and we all giggle. <o:p></o:p>
He can be so beautiful when he giggles. <o:p></o:p>
I dream once I can be as beautiful as him.<o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
¡°I didn¡¯t go to church today<o:p></o:p>
I trust the lord to understand.<o:p></o:p>
the surf was swirling blue and white,<o:p></o:p>
the children swirling on the sand.¡±<o:p></o:p>
When the gentle breeze skate over our skins, he reads, with his eyes narrowing <o:p></o:p>
as threads. He smiles like a child, with his crescent eyes disappearing and <o:p></o:p>
cheeks turning red. <o:p></o:p>
On his blog, he puts his head on a ¡°muscle man¡±. <o:p></o:p>
Smiles, swirls, sand, children, happy things.<o:p></o:p>
I used to have that naive smile, when I was young. <o:p></o:p>
I didn¡¯t have to wear so much cloth.<o:p></o:p>
I could never sleep too much. <o:p></o:p>
I liked to get out and run to faraway places with my little friends,<o:p></o:p>
with my dad, riding a bicycle, following behind,<o:p></o:p>
¡±Jane, your mom¡¯s long-distance call from Shenzhen!¡±<o:p></o:p>
Now, in front of me, he still has the crescent eyes, and the angle like smile.<o:p></o:p>
But I already forget how to smile like that, only learn how to cry.<o:p></o:p>
I wish he could help me, to find back my angle like smile. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
¡°Between the desire, and the spasm,<o:p></o:p>
Between the potency, and the existence,<o:p></o:p>
Between the essence, and the descent,<o:p></o:p>
Falls the shadow.¡±<o:p></o:p>
When breeze stops, we feel cool and refreshed. She starts to read, with lovely voice.<o:p></o:p>
Her face is calm. <o:p></o:p>
Silently, we listen with hearts. <o:p></o:p>
She makes me feel, that she is happy to see me and talk to me,<o:p></o:p>
She doesn¡¯t talk too much, but only once.<o:p></o:p>
What she remembers about America is, no money, <o:p></o:p>
even when her parents are working very hard.<o:p></o:p>
She dreams to be an English teacher, if not for money or anything,<o:p></o:p>
¡°Then you should be it,¡± I look at her seriously,<o:p></o:p>
¡°I will be a biochemical major. It¡¯s ok.¡± <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
I guess she has been through the Depression.<o:p></o:p>
But it didn¡¯t make a great deal in her life. <o:p></o:p>
Depression, let¡¯s stop talking about it. <o:p></o:p>
We smile to each other. We stopped talking about it.<o:p></o:p>
So we don¡¯t recall any hard-luck story. <o:p></o:p>
We smile, and talk about happy things soon after. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
¡°Why is the moon full when people are apart? <o:p></o:p>
People fell sorrow and joy, and to be together and to be apart. <o:p></o:p>
May we all be blessed with longevity even if we are far apart, <o:p></o:p>
we will still able to share the beauty of the moon together.¡±<o:p></o:p>
When the sky is the purest and the birds start to sing, he reads. <o:p></o:p>
What he reads always catch my heart.<o:p></o:p>
He then plays the music, <o:p></o:p>
Silently, we listen with hearts.<o:p></o:p>
He says the music make him miss his home. <o:p></o:p>
It takes him back into the balcony, where his parents and his little sister sit,<o:p></o:p>
In the cool nigh, they watch the stars, and talk about dinners, about TV programs, <o:p></o:p>
About interesting things happen to each one during the day.<o:p></o:p>
It makes me feel so nice inside. Oh, I want to sing, but I couldn¡¯t sing very well.<o:p></o:p>
So I murmur the tone, in my mouth, in my heart. <o:p></o:p>
¡°We will still be able to share the beauty of the moon together, ¡°<o:p></o:p>
¡°Still together,¡±<o:p></o:p>
Still together¡¡<o:p></o:p>
Music is so sweet, like turning sadness into gladness, <o:p></o:p>
Music makes me cry, never from sadness, but from happiness. <o:p></o:p>
Music charms beasts and melts steel. <o:p></o:p>
Music reminds me of petals from flowers floating through the air,<o:p></o:p>
Also like a ballet group dancing on the stage, <o:p></o:p>
With their long necks, arms, legs stretching out, <o:p></o:p>
so beautifully.<o:p></o:p>
My mom used to be a dancer, standing with her foot tip, with her beauty.<o:p></o:p>
It brings to me the elegance and the grace of a woman. <o:p></o:p>
I never dreamed that music and dance could make a woman so beautiful,<o:p></o:p>
Until I see my mom with my own eyes.<o:p></o:p>
I seldom realize, that mom is trying to teach me by example.<o:p></o:p>
She walks straight. She works hard and feed me by her hands. <o:p></o:p>
She is the most beautiful woman in my heart.<o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
¡°I have tumbled to the bottom of the cliff.<o:p></o:p>
And awaken, a bit rattled. <o:p></o:p>
But now, after the pain settles, I see through a new eye.<o:p></o:p>
I¡¯m of storm, yet, I¡¯m of calm, <o:p></o:p>
Never to forget, always to remember¡<o:p></o:p>
I¡¯m alive. ¡±<o:p></o:p>
I look out of the window, seeing the mountain, and concrete buildings blocking the <o:p></o:p>
mountain. He reads, next to me, loud and slow. ¡°Is he a rock from the mountain?¡± maybe, <o:p></o:p>
I tell myself. <o:p></o:p>
Silently, we listen with hearts,<o:p></o:p>
We talk a lot. <o:p></o:p>
Actually, he talks a lot, and I like to listen to him.<o:p></o:p>
¡°Scholar¡¯s mind is as wide as sea. ¡°an old Chinese proverb says so. <o:p></o:p>
He reads a lot and knows a lot, <o:p></o:p>
Listening to him, I feel like I¡¯m in the ocean.<o:p></o:p>
He makes me aware of the big world I haven¡¯t explored,<o:p></o:p>
As the ocean,<o:p></o:p>
protecting all our sea life and fish life. <o:p></o:p>
I know I have to train myself, to read more,<o:p></o:p>
to be powerful and rich, to respect others and respect myself.<o:p></o:p>
¡°To be different as you are, your light shines as different as a star,¡± He continues to read.<o:p></o:p>
I wish someday I can also be an ocean, be as wide and calm.<o:p></o:p>
So I can make things more beautiful.<o:p></o:p>
I¡¯m nice and cool. <o:p></o:p>
Some people they still suffer from heat, <o:p></o:p>
And I feel sorry for them, <o:p></o:p>
New cool me. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
¡°Silent, silent is the world; fair, fair is the moon,<o:p></o:p>
the screens been unrolled,<o:p></o:p>
Heavy, heavy are the shadow; gray, gray turns my hair.<o:p></o:p>
Endless, endless is the regret; dripping. Dripping, fair rain is heard in the silent rain.<o:p></o:p>
At dusk, the fine rain on the plane tree, <o:p></o:p>
Falls with a pitter-patter, a pitter-patter;<o:p></o:p>
Always after four, the world takes down its mask.¡±<o:p></o:p>
Finally, I read, and the gentle breeze comes back to kiss our skins. <o:p></o:p>
I couldn¡¯t sing, but my poem is with sound. <o:p></o:p>
Silently, we listen with heart.<o:p></o:p>
Yes, it sounds. It sounds quiet and soothing.<o:p></o:p>
It sounds like all different colors. <o:p></o:p>
Yellow. I like yellow. Yellow is my lucky color. Flowers are yellow. <o:p></o:p>
I am yellow, too.<o:p></o:p>
But followers are steadfast. They never change their color.<o:p></o:p>
They grow everywhere, and they are still yellow. <o:p></o:p>
I admire them. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
¡°I have looked at life from both sides now, <o:p></o:p>
from up and down, and still somehow, <o:p></o:p>
It¡¯s life illusions I recall,<o:p></o:p>
I really don¡¯t know life at all.¡±<o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
I¡¯d like to write a poem about my friends around, <o:p></o:p>
I started it already. <o:p></o:p>
My mother left when I was a baby, my father died when I was a girl.<o:p></o:p>
I thought I will be growing up through blind trials and errors,<o:p></o:p>
Without mentors, without stories to help me understand my own life,<o:p></o:p>
But, I was wrong. <o:p></o:p>
I¡¯ve never been left over,<o:p></o:p>
People around me took over, <o:p></o:p>
He, she, and you.<o:p></o:p>
Silently, I¡¯m listening with my heart,<o:p></o:p>
I find part of what I want to learn,<o:p></o:p>
In each of you, in each of your poem. <o:p></o:p>
I have lived to be twenty, and that¡¯s wonderful.<o:p></o:p>
Life has been good to me, <o:p></o:p>
because with heart, I listen to you, you listen to me. <o:p></o:p>
What you¡¯d like to know, what other people are doing,<o:p></o:p>
If one is in trouble, and if another can help,<o:p></o:p>
That¡¯s what I like, to help on another, and to learn from others,<o:p></o:p>
It¡¯s very nice to write and read poems. <o:p></o:p>
Posted by Jane Qi on 6/8/04; 10:13:13 AM
from the dept.
|
