Different Path, Same Road
Water buffalos grazed
by tractors coming home
by tractors coming home
We left the sun and labor
with Jesus on my back
Buddha holding your hand
Wise as a sage
with overall and boots
You sang me country
Bald as in eagle
with sandalwood breath
I made you green tea
Rub my belly for good-luck
I'll break a leg
I could be your Far East
and you my Wild West
Two Poems for Venerable Quoc Hung
1.
summer fades, the monsoon dies
summer dies, the monsoon pours
in my eyes, everything rises and falls
above mind is white
white disappears
when summer dies
do not think the monsoon is gone
just this morning
during my walk
a dew brushed my skin
2.
your intelligence, good-looks, and charm
your stupidity, ugliness, and shyness
they go six feet under
rich or poor
the noodles are going to boil
to live? before me, clouds drift
like a lazy dream
to die? behind me, hills are alive
with fresh valley echoes
vainly I question peace
yet I strive to live, listening to thunderous
roar
of war
