Walking through Cooked Rice Fields

between the green paddy fields,
water slithers, bound in ropes of light,
eyes that see, that don’t, that search,
glazed in the watery smoke
from burning cow dung cakes,
the anachronistic tinkle
of heavy anklets,
as feet slowly breach
the mudbanks of an untold past;

I wait for a wave of nostalgia,
of longing,
of belonging,
here it must have begun,
ten, fifty, a hundred generations lost,
by chance, by intervention,
the smell of rice still
bubbling in those
earthenware pots;

time has stopped,
on a steep incline, winded,
gulping the tarnished air,
the hands that pushed me here,
are pulling its skin, its womb,
cracking its rib cage,
drying its blood,
gorging quickly,
on its still beating heart;

where I come from
is dismembering the years,
uncreating all that made me,
undoing the perilous links,
until what I am
is a caricature,
a single dimension,
cast into a green sky,
with bells on my feet,
tethered with ropes of light,
an empty pot
broken twice,
to open the scarecrow’s
straw blinded eyes.

still, between the green paddy fields,
water slithers.

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35 thoughts on “Walking through Cooked Rice Fields

  1. I like the imagery you’ve created in your poem…….”between the green paddy fields,
    water slithers, bound in ropes of light”……..”where I come from is dismembering the years,
    uncreating all that made me”
    Lovely Read

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Luv your images promoting history, heritage and culture. And the metaphor for continuity works well in that water slithering between te rice fields
    Happy Sunday, thank you for dropping in at my ‘Sunday Standard’ today

    much love…

    Like

  3. A fascinating reflective write. Time stopping on a steep incline is something that resonates with me. Waiting for a wave of nostalgia…yes, this is what we so often do, but you expressed it so well.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. It is sometimes very important to look back where we come from. I adore the imagery here. I used to play on the rice paddies when was little so even when I am reading this on the train, I felt I was transported to the province 🙂

    Like

    1. Thanks so much Totomai, am glad it brought back memories of the rice paddies. Temple towers sticking out of green fields with water gushing from the pumps…a typical sight as one travels through the villages here.

      Like

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