To Let Go Poem by Duy Bui

In the presence of loss and pain,
memories stand, the only evidence
of what were and could have been.
They are the stains of ancient tears on
the gray stones of an old chapel.
Surrendering to the greenest
of God’s creation, I sometimes
ask, how can nature teach to give
when it takes so much away?

The hopes of what could grow to be,
became frozen speculations like
icebergs on a fine sunny day.
Every prayer in silence evolved to be a
supplication for silver crashing waves.
Every tiniest move to be nearer to it,
I find myself a universe away.
Every conviction of love finds more
intimacy with that foreseen persecution,
persecution of what were and could have become.

When I reached the mountaintop
of wonders, all things were silent.
All that were and could be were gone, but only
the blue air above and the air that carried my
weightless body to the presence.
Moments, days, months seasons are
the actors of what were, what is and
all that will come.
In the presence of death and loss of
what were and could have been, I am free.