Lenten Song

I listen to things and become one

The sigh of bush becomes mine
Groaning of the woods becomes my groaning
How many times the trees tremble
because of the burning log and moaning rock?
I listen to things and they become beings
My ancestors sighed and groaned
Their bodies tremble when they breathed
in the middle of wars and violence
not of the nature but of humans
They invaded into and took lives
They killed and stole humans
Later they were called generals and heroes
They became the emperors and kings
They wrote histories and stores
River runs even today with whispers
Wind blows through bushes with smiles
Rocks stand still to be witnesses of the mortals come and gone
Woods welcome new lives who come with innocence
I listen to things and things listen to me
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I want to be a Tree

I do not want to speak a word

People can come and talk to me their stories

I do not want to give any suggestion

They can just share their ideas

I will give them shade

They can come and lie down

I will bear my fruits

Those who want them will take away

Some dogs will come and pee on me

I will love them anyway

Someday, someone will come and cut me down

to build whatever they want to

(hopefully not a wall but a bridge, but what can I say?)

And I can still offer my stump.

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Right Direction but Fast Speed

My dear I know you are confident

in your driving my car

I know you are a good driver

but I am scared


The road is winding in this mountain

Two lanes are narrow

It is still raining

Cant you slow down?

You keep saying that this is the right direction

I thought it is only the speed that I worry about

Now I am not sure whether we are going in the right direction!

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You are my child and I am well pleased with you

When you asked your portion of MY possession

I loved you
When you wasted all of MY money for your flesh
I loved you
When you ate the foods that pigs ate
My heart ached.
Even before you decided to come back
I loved you still
When you came back
I was thrilled
When you said that you are not worthy of my love
My heart was broken
Do not say that you want to be treated
as one of my hired hands
Do not say that you do not deserve my love
You are my child
When I prepared a feast for you
My heart was full.
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Growing Older is a Blessing

Growing older is a blessing

like a tree in autumn

we have seen them almost all
Not as old as hills
not as weak as fallen leaves
but ready for almost everything
Growing older is a gift
we did not die young
like the Divine One on the Cross
Not as fierce as he was
Not as dramatic as his life was
but tagging along till now with our feeble souls
Growing older is an opportunity
To say Thank You to (almost) everything
To say Sorry to (almost) everybody
I am growing older
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Useless Tree

A useless tree I am

Nobody notices me
and I am happy.
Children climb up on me
Elderly people sleep under my shade
and I am contend
A useless tree I am
Wind touches my branches
Moon light shines upon my trunk
I can taste rain drops from time to time
And I am peaceful
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My persimmon tree had buds in the spring

Now I see red orange fruits all over the tree
Some birds already tasted it
Some fruits fell down before they are ripen
I know, however, many will be ready
to be served in many occasions
Once God begins the process
we end with fruits
unless we cut down the flow
Beginning is half success
the other half is in staying on
Someday, if not me
my great great…………………..great children will have it
If I have only one!
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