my mother once told me
when i speak chinese
you can’t understand me
when you speak english
i can’t understand you
and it struck my heart into two
how did i not see
this ever-growing chasm the
fundamentals of language
ripping and clawing,
slashing, tearing, burning
my tongue rolls in my mouth
pebbles clashing in a cavernous rock tumbler
trying to make each other
smooth, fluent
but i can’t spin it fast enough
the rocks can’t smooth each other out and
language has failed me
what else can i do
what tender touch, what loving words
can i utter to fashion my own bridge
if two architects design different plans
how can i tell my mother that i
love her
without having to speak the words
i build a different bridge
i abandon words, fluency
there is more to life than what we say
instead we make every plank of the bridge a different form of
love
maybe today it’s a kind smile
tomorrow it’ll be a bowl of fruit silently delivered
and yesterday it was a walk in the park, just the two of us
we build bridges
in the best way we can
imperfect, rickety, flawed bridges
creaking, unstable, shaky
but they are loving bridges and
in that way we can understand each other
making a bridge is no real test of love but
walking the bridge is
Cover Photo Source: iStock