Coming Home to Hong Kong
Like a timid bridegroom,
the young sun peeps from behind Lion Rock.
Resplendent in green,
a beefy beetle is madly making love to a wildflower.
Hiking up the trail across the profile of the lion,
I reach its head, sit, and marvel at my city and harbor.
Maybe God is the salt in the seawater,
giving it taste.
Maybe God is the essential oil inside a flower,
giving it scent.
Maybe God is the goodness in human beings,
giving us heart.
Maybe God and each of us are always one.
And when we unravel and return to ourselves,
we will discover that, like the sun, the beetle, the port,
the mountain, we can claim our space in this city.
the young sun peeps from behind Lion Rock.
Resplendent in green,
a beefy beetle is madly making love to a wildflower.
Hiking up the trail across the profile of the lion,
I reach its head, sit, and marvel at my city and harbor.
Maybe God is the salt in the seawater,
giving it taste.
Maybe God is the essential oil inside a flower,
giving it scent.
Maybe God is the goodness in human beings,
giving us heart.
Maybe God and each of us are always one.
And when we unravel and return to ourselves,
we will discover that, like the sun, the beetle, the port,
the mountain, we can claim our space in this city.
January / February 2023
Sonia FL Leung, a Hong Kong-based writer, is the author of Don’t Cry, Phoenix (2020), a bilingual (English and Chinese) poetry collection with an album of ten original songs. Sonia holds an MFA in Creative Nonfiction. Her work has appeared in Voice & Verse Poetry Magazine, West Trestle Review, Remington Review, Asian Cha, The Shanghai Literary Review, Mala Literary Journal, and the anthologies: Afterness – Literature from the New Transnational Asia, A Personal History of Home, and Making Space: A Collection of Writing and Art. Sonia is exploring publication opportunities for her memoir, The Girl Who Dreamed.
Art: Kimberlee Frederick. How Would You Hold Me So You Could Watch Me Open. Digital Collage, 2022