The Quiet Morning Poem by VO THI NHU MAI

my home is neither far nor lost
in the singing of the wind
where thatched roofs and dreams
are cradled by the temple bell
i awake in the morning
chasing the kite
and the earth plays a tune softly
under the rising sun
.
through the trees
a flicker of gold
the old ones gather
carrying hopes in their hands
prayers melting in the smoke
the scent of jasmine and rice
the fields call to the heart
to the tender moments
of childhood laughter
.
the river tells its tale
each ripple a memory
as I am a stranger now
turn to those who remain
the dawn still soft in my soul
a love that i carry to the Western land