Nights in Goryeo
There are Nights in Goryeo...
Where I am proud of the places I’ve come from
When the cold is no excuse to avoid tradition
Where I’m elbowed by the elderly as I wait in line
Where dinner table conversations leave a deep impression
When I feel lonely in the crowd, but dance and flow anyway
Where I am walking the streets at 2 AM because we decided against a second round of karaoke
When the city never sleeps, and I lie awake in my bed
Where I climb to the rooftop to talk to God and cry out the weight on my shoulders
When men stand outside and loudly clear their throats, spitting for the tenth time this hour
Moments that remind me of nights elsewhere, and my old self.
There are Days in Goryeo...
Where I am proud of where I am
Where a train ride through the autumn-coated mountains is rejuvenating
Where a boy called Optimus Prime grins and swings his legs as we sing the ABCs, and grannies look on with wonder
When I wait eagerly for my chance to eat a street vendor’s sweet, freshly-fried hoddeok
When I feel lonely in the crowd, and then a friend appears
When I am invited to venture outside my comfort zone
Where I am a celebrity to the passersby
When laughter and joy cannot be contained
Where I can hear the Earth breathing
Moments that remind me of days elsewhere, and my new self.