8.9 years old

I have a bird’s eye view today,

not high enough

I hear the waters whirl and I think it’s the breeze

I’m a turi ¹

snatching your plastic helmet,

resting in its nest

as if it’s my mother’s womb

Can I cover all eyes with my tiny hands, Mr?

What if I turn into a washi ², washing away death from the flooded streets,

blowing some feathery life into those ruins,

stuffing some air with my beak into those lungs

What if I turn into a karasu ³, knotting people’s wishes into a bundle,

kneeling in front of all dying prey,

eating my guts out to kill that emptiness

Will you keep our heads above the roughness of umi ⁴ then, Mr?

Will you stay when we reach the end of this mud-ness?

(Mr crosses the waters like Moses – Mr says nothing)

SO I REPEAT

I have a bird’s eye view today,

never high enough

I hear my people’s sighs slicing the air and I think it’s the sweet sun

I’m a turi

landing on your military uniform,

sucking red milk from your sleeve

as if it’s my mother’s breast

Am I allowed to vomit my loss into your rescuing hands?

I have no home today

No home Mr

Just you carrying me on your back until we meet Land again

(umi moves in and out – umi continues its soaking sounds)

Whooooooshhhhhhh

Shhhhhhhwhhhhhoooshhhhhhh

Then what, Mr?

Then what?

1 Bird in Japanese

2 Eagle in Japanese

3 Crow in Japanese

4 Sea in Japanese

selected to be published in Art Attack Volume III International Poetry Collection
ART ATTACK COMPETITION - Volume III - 2011