Light of the Unknown
It was the younger girl, the toddler, the fair one
The still, whispering one who hid behind my leg
And peeped out to see if the giant world was safe
The child who, like me, couldn’t do Maths but, like me,
Needed a story to shuffle her into sleep
The one who came to write poetry and sing songs.
Who learned to conquer her fear of mask and water
And finally trusted her fast breath through the tube
To swim exultant, over deeps, chasing fishes
Then one February day a tiny figure
Swamped in a huge rucksack, smiled a nervous goodbye
And dived, trusting, into the wondrous giant world
She swam Cambodian rivers, sat in ashrams
Rattled through hot hills on hot trains with open doors
Became a teacher. Learned Vietnamese. Daily
Weaved Saigon traffic on a moped in the rain
Wore the Ao dai. Was respected for who she was
And what she did. Made friends with all who would make friends
She came home briefly. Paced round people now distant,
Places dusted with a life she already knew.
The cold streets gave back none of the heat of Asia
All was just the same and nothing was just the same
Her footsteps echoed from the wrong pavements, wrong shoes.
For in her eyes the light of the unknown outshines
The light of English days. A different star map
Tracks her path through our chosen tangled warp and weft
She will not rest for she chooses the giant world.