Small beginnings

by Kevin Oh

Savor the winter bite,

Though it stiffens your fingers to uselessness,

Though as shards of glass, it moves to

Pierce and flay you bare to bone

Just to remind you again

That you are not welcome here

Savor it regardless; for it will

Recommend you in the end, and testify on your behalf:

He was cold so they could be warm

Savor the exile,

As their aspersions echo in triplicate,

Settle close and hissy whispers will clarify, yes,

Hear now the orchestra

Of a dozen harmonizing rebukes

Issued forth by those

Whose minds lie dusty from disuse,

Whose cracked tongues bleed distilled idiocy

Whose coarse groping touch inspires nothing and no one

Even the diplomats among them would not tread in

The winding valley you’ve called home

They would wither without their sun

But as its beams heat their flesh,

So too does it claim their eyes

Odd - that even in their blindness

They know nothing of the darkness that binds them

Savor the vagabond role

It is the cost of dual citizenship

Remember the Engineer’s oath

Remember your assignment

Savor the songbird’s song, and,

On the days you hear it, do not deny you’ve heard it,

And sing it over in your heart - the song bird

Who flies over valley and peak all the same,

She is part of a timeless order of angels

And will cover you as you explore the Gray

Love them as they come, and they will lift you out

When your work is done

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