Pacem

There was
something magical – and
fragile – about the tissue papers
on which we corresponded
(marked PAR AVION) and the
interminable weeks between each letter

Post World War II
the world was trying to rebuild, heal
we (Yukiko and I) were
part of that process – two
children: one Japanese, one American

Our shared world was
not filled with rhetoric of atomic
bombs and communiqués of détente

We built bridges
over the minutiae of daily life
one letter, one question, one
similarity at a time, two
children on opposite sides of
the world – born out of the aftermath
of war – first flowers post-cataclysm

Together we explored Mt. Fuji, and
the rocky New England beaches –
our job, to put the world back together

These days
before a call, text or tweet
I check the time – in Phoenix
Bonnieux, Hong Kong, Annapolis
communication is brief and instantaneous

My slowly rotating globe
marks a new time zone (25 in all)
with every fifteen minutes of longitude

While in Phoenix, the
afternoon is still sunny, it is
already midnight and raining in Bonnieux
Hong Kong is just waking – we
stay awake long into the night in
the south of France to hear children’s
laughter in Annapolis, or rise early
here to send love into a Hong Kong evening

Tweeting 140 characters
into the ether – too easy? We no longer
remember to catch our breaths
before putting ink that cannot be erased
to paper…or sons and daughters to war

The Twin Towers, Charlie Hebdo, Syria
Paris, Turkey, San Bernardino. None can be
erased, life re-breathed into innocents lost

With my 140 characters, I can
send P-e-a-c-e – and L-o-v-e – to the world
in fourteen languages; tweet H-o-p-e
and still have seven characters left to
remind the world to b – r – e – a – t – h – e
what will your 140 say in those next keystrokes
– and before the next bullet?

During this season of Peace
Love and Hope – may wisdom (as seen
through the eyes of the
children) open our hearts to each other
and teach us to breathe – together.