My mom and me

Who was walking into my picture?  (with the writing group on August 7, 2021 at Theodore Wirth Park)

Climbing up the wood stairs in Theodore Wirth Park,

Listening to the rain tapping on the leaves,

Treading like a cat carefully on the wet steps,

I heard the knocking on the door of my heart.

“Who is there? Anyone?” I asked.

Squinting the eyes of mind, I saw in the reminiscence:

Mom was climbing the Shoushan with me,

Where is also called Mt. Monkey, famous for the wildlife of macaques.

On that cloudy day, our four eyes eagerly searched for their shades.

Never seen one before, so I prayed: “God, please show one to me.”

Walking slowly but desiring eagerly,

Suddenly, out of nowhere, one macaque appeared a little distance away.

“O, did you see it?” we gasped.

Like a glimpse of a shooting star, Mom and I excitedly but quietly nudged each other.

A few minutes later, surprisingly, another macaque jumped into our sight.

I told mom that I prayed to God for seeing one.

“Me too!” Mom acclaimed.

One macaque showed up for answering Mom’s prayer;

Another one came to visit for answering my prayer.

***

I counted the stairs to the top, seeing no image of Mom and macaques,

Only thing I found was the abandoned little hut.

I recalled that day of seeing macaques and our hearts going pit-a-pat,

As rain pitter-pattered on the umbrella at this moment in the park.

I turned around, strolling the stairs down.

I took out a pencil and started to sketch the green meadow before me.

Then, suddenly, out of nowhere, two deer appeared a little distance away.

One walked ahead and the other one followed.

They reminded me of the two macaques Mom and I peeked.

They reminded me of Mom and I.

Sweet memory was lingering in my heart,

So was Mom’s love.

***

In my imagination, I seemed to hear the doe calling from behind:

“Slow down, my little fawn.

The time will come;

You will leap big and jump high. Then, I will let you go and you will not have me by your side.

Just like Mom and I, sadly being separated by the sea.

At this moment, I seem to hear myself whispering from the deep:

“Take heart, my big kid.

The time will come;

You will extend your wings and fly high.

From now on, I will let you go and you will always have my prayer:

May God bless you to soar freely above like an eagle;

May God bless your feet to stride out confidently like hinds’ feet.

Just like I and my kids.

The generational change is like tide’s ebb and flow.

But our hearts will bond in the spiritual realm, where there  are no bounds by time or zone.