Its been almost five years and as she recalled her first meeting with her husband in 2003, she never thought that about two years later their paths would cross again and would eventually traverse toward a different level of friendship. As she was browsing through old photos of a cultural event that they attended the first time they met, she wrote this poem. It was written from her memory while she was recalling the bits and pieces of their fond memories together at Japan Tent. http://www.japantent.com/
“Memories of Japan Tent”
White is the color of the shirt you wear on the first day I saw you, at Japan Tent, talking to strangers, your smile transcends beauty in the wind. Your golden hair shines like light, your pale color revealed your race.
An American maybe? Oh an Aussie and so I see… Where are you from, you asked? I replied with a smile, a brief conversation, a brief encounter, not sure if our paths will cross again.
Summer is the season, the heat echoes with warmth and joy, I saw you again, in the mix of cultures, in the mix of race familiarizing the culture of the land of the rising sun.
A few days passed, brief encounters again in places new to me, doing cultural activities some fun and as boring as can be. A frog in a blender, weird stories I cant recall, in the bus you tried to amuse me…
With host families gathered full of generosity, delightful and free, again you smiled to me and whisper, “I think the Japanese girl likes me”, astonished, I laughed quietly, a conceited lad maybe … the statement seems vivid to me, cool and free, I sigh with glee.
Brief encounters, brief conversations, brief smile, little glances, little touches … will I ever see you again ? the thought lingers …
“Memories of Japan Tent”
White is the color of the shirt you wear on the first day I saw you, at Japan Tent, talking to strangers, your smile transcends beauty in the wind. Your golden hair shines like light, your pale color revealed your race.
An American maybe? Oh an Aussie and so I see… Where are you from, you asked? I replied with a smile, a brief conversation, a brief encounter, not sure if our paths will cross again.
Summer is the season, the heat echoes with warmth and joy, I saw you again, in the mix of cultures, in the mix of race familiarizing the culture of the land of the rising sun.
A few days passed, brief encounters again in places new to me, doing cultural activities some fun and as boring as can be. A frog in a blender, weird stories I cant recall, in the bus you tried to amuse me…
With host families gathered full of generosity, delightful and free, again you smiled to me and whisper, “I think the Japanese girl likes me”, astonished, I laughed quietly, a conceited lad maybe … the statement seems vivid to me, cool and free, I sigh with glee.
Brief encounters, brief conversations, brief smile, little glances, little touches … will I ever see you again ? the thought lingers …
No comments:
Post a Comment