A Paradox for Peace

This is a paradox for peace—

that in silence, lack of noise

it is there I find my truest voice.

Will I slow down long enough

to hear the voice within?

In order to know where I’m going

I need to accept where I’ve been.

Rest for the weary

Even in my stillness,

I am restless,

I am restless until

I am stilled.

It is a peace outside of myself

that I must invite in.

I open my heart with hesitation,

half-afraid of what else might sneak in.

1…2…3…4

1…2…3…4

1…2…3…4

1…2…3…4

This feels unfamiliar

This feels nice

THis feels like

R…E…S…T

A mother’s heart

This is my Po-Po. She immigrated to San Francisco as an adult, and owned a restaurant in Chinatown. I miss her, but I hold her in my heart and hope to honor her passion for food and human connection through Evermore. Love you, Po-po.

The heart of a mother is

full of fears,

full of worries,

full of self-criticism.

And yet, it is also

full of love,

full of hope,

full of passion,

to see the world around her

become a better place.

Not just for her child,

but for all of those

who were once a child.

She doesn’t see rich or poor,

lawful or unlawful,

she simply sees human—

Humans worthy of dignity and respect

Humans in need of love.

She makes it her ambition

to pour herself out,

to love the world into a better place ~~~

A river runs

This is a poem for my mom. She was a river that ran.

A turtle walks,

An elephant marches,

A river runs.

Her love was like a river,

that poured herself out,

freely giving,

always flowing,

trusting amidst the unknowing

of what awaited ahead.