Member Poem

11 June 1963

Is it too much for people to live with one heart
beneath the sky? You see, the clouds refuse
to rain down upon me. I can hear nothing
but the faint rustle of the flames, the flag
of five colors. I can hear my heart.

I want the same as anyone. I am no different.
Assurance of the quiet, of the faint happiness.
I know my brothers and sisters encircle me.
They are not dancing. Their legs
are being broken.

I have been made for the lotus, become the lotus.
And you look upon me, eyes held
as I am held—to this earth, this government,
but only for a little while. I look up at the sky
and see a vision of the Buddha.

He is weeping.

(Originally appeared in DASH, issue 11)