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MEMORIAL IN VERSE
This year of building the kingdom:
Dealing with the four seasons,
Studying how millet grows
And how the birds form their eggs;
Interested in studying how Tampax are made,
And how furniture can be gold-leafed;
Studying the construction of my home,
How the whitewash of the plain wood can be dignified,
How we could develop terry cloth on our floor,
How my dapons can shoot accurately,
How my financiers can rush themselves into neurosis,
How the Board session can arrive at pragmatic decisions.
Oh, I have watched the sky grow old and the trees become younger as the
seasons changed.
I have experienced the crisp air of December and January becoming a
landmark of my life
As twenty grey hairs grow on my head.
I have witnessed that I have grown older and old,
As I grasp the scepters and handle the rice heaps, performing ceremonies.
I have thought I have also grown younger every day,
Taking showers, looking at myself in the mirror--
Perky and willing, I see myself:
That my lips don't quiver and my jaws are strong,
And my gaze is accurate.
When I think of this year, the most memorable occasion is the explosion of
love affair,
Which was no joke;
It is true, I think of that every day
When I take my medicine for my good health, as prescribed by the
physicians,
I think of my love affair as I wipe my bottom
Sitting on the toilet:
One appreciates that yellow dye sitting on white paper
As it flushes down the efficient American plumbing system.
One of this year's highlights is also that I failed and accomplished a
lot:
The failure is mine,
The accomplishment is to my Regent.
Sometimes I think of the Ganges and Brahmaputra, or the Yellow River;
I could shed many tears.
And I think of the glaciers of Mt. Everest;
I could become solid, steady and stern--
I have developed the face of a frozen glacier.
So my life comes and goes in the same way the swallows sway back and forth
in the air:
They may catch flies or they may not.
I have developed jurisdiction and fair constitution,
I have told the truth of the Great Eastern Sun vision from my moldy lips,
I have experienced certainty within uncertainty
Because one realizes the traffic of ants does not have traffic lights
And it is hard to give them speeding tickets.
My journey grows and shrinks.
However, the wicked will tremble and the awakened will rejoice.
I have fought, ambushed, raped, attacked, nursed, abused, cultivated, fed,
nourished, hospitalized by world
With its world-ees.
Now I have grown very young and very old.
I appreciate the sun and moon, snow and rain, clouds, and deep blue sky;
I appreciate the ruggedness and the beauty of the universe,
Which is sometimes cruel, developing sharp thorns of the cactus plant,
And sometimes beautiful chrysanthemums of fantastic scent.
Blood or ink: both I take as yellow and purple color.
1 January 1979
Boulder, Colorado
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