Papas
San... The Forest
of Souls... The Wall
America’s
Fourth of July
“Only in America,” I meditate.
Enlightened, flowing inside of
the tunnel of the unknown;
Unknown to me why certain corners
of the world resent my U.S.A.?
Particular groups of immigrants
imagine America as solely a “gold-mine”
They come to expect to receive,
to dig …. social provisions -- welfare, medicare…
But their fanatic nationals are
hurting our adopted land -- September 11 --
Have I heard or seen their
actions, as a sense of being protective of
America?
Wonder if they perceive their
naturalized citizenship as a right or privilege or blessing?
“Only in America,” echoed in my head.
Yes, our Forest
of Souls, only here I “see” human generosity and charity
All foreign languages blare on
TVs, radios …. telling their nationals
Where, how to apply for housings,
SSI, welfare checks
Ample “legal” offices
coaching for a fee
While the killings of Americans
and allies take place in their motherland,
Their indifference lives on with
pride in sending home regular remittance.
“Only in America,” I gratefully whisper.
Thirty-five years of having lived
here, I truly feel her adopted son,
America powerfully epitomizes loving kindness, sincerity, humanity
A homeless soul is kindly treated
at my workplace, Rancho
Los
Amigos
Hospital,
No less than a
Hollywood
movie-star at a rich Emergency room.
Yes, Papas San, only in your home
sweet home,
I am not afraid to start all over
again
My life has been lived to the
fullest and been so blessed.
Remember you protected me from
Saigon to Camp Pendleton?
You took me in and gave me your
home while you stayed back;
Thirty-five years later, I am
still wearing your MIAs bracelet,
Waiting for you.
Only in America…
Linh Duy Vo
1975 – 2010©
The
writer must write what he has to say,
not speak it!
--Ernest Hemingway
Goodbye My Love
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