my mother and the moon

Tomorrow will be the Chinese Mid-Autumn Festival. It used to be a big day in the past, but not anymore now, I guess. So, here's something to celebrate the occasion. Anyway, I have eaten some of the moon cakes. :)

image by dsnake1




my mother and the moon


Mother, whenever I see a full moon, I would be reminded of you. You see, you were like the light on a dark night that guided me. You were the Weaver and dad, the Cowherd, as you so lovingly told us, your children, those folk tales, about the moon and humans and gods and deities. But what I remembered most was, you prayed to the moon. Yes, mother, you prayed to the moon! On every Mid-Autumn's night, you filled a tray with fruits, water caltrops, three cups of tea, bowls of jelly, moon cakes, areca nuts and betel leaves, a box of rouge and a bottle of florida water. These you offered to the Moon Goddess, after you have lighted the candles and joss sticks, to pray for health and safety for the family.

"But mother, the Americans have landed on the moon!", I would say, and you would silence me and beg forgiveness from the goddess for this ignorant son. It has been years since I last eaten those jellies, mother, how I wish I could eat those jellies that you made on Mid-Autumn's day again. They were delicious and sweet. But now, you are up there with the moon too, among the stars, and as I gaze up at the night skies, I miss you, your wisdom, though you know little of letters, your compassion, your faith in us, and I am thankful, knowing you will guide us on in the darkest nights.



full moon
and other lanterns -

mid-autumn's night.



written 12/05/2013
revised 07/09/2014
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This is my attempt to translate the Chinese Tang dynasty poet Li Bai's "A Quiet Night Thought".


in front of my bed a patch of moonlight
it seems there is frost on the ground
i lift my head and gaze at the full moon
when i lower it i think of my hometown


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The haiku at the end of my poem, I lifted from a previous post in my other blog. :)

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2014

my mother and the moon

Over at The Poetry Pantry, the call was to write a work about mothers. I wanted to post this on Mother's Day, but I was totally zonked out after a day's work. (yes, I do work on Sundays).

Initially, I wrote something gritty and grim. Perhaps it was not too appropriate for the occasion. Then I wrote this. But I am really not too satisfied with it, it's kind of long and naggy. Maybe I will do some editing to it one day. :)




photo by semiross
image from morguefile



my mother and the moon


Mother, whenever I see a full moon, I would be reminded of you. You see, you were like the light on a dark night that guided me. You were the Weaver and Dad, the Cowherd, as you so lovingly told us, your children, those folk tales, about the moon and humans and gods and deities. But what I remembered most was, you prayed to the moon. Yes, mother, you prayed to the moon! On every Mid-Autumn's night, you filled a tray with fruits, three cups of tea, bowls of jelly, moon cakes, areca nuts and betel leaves, a box of rouge and a bottle of florida water. These you offered to the Moon Goddess, after you have lighted the candles and joss sticks, to pray for health and safety for the family.

"But mother, the Americans have landed on the moon!", I would say, and she would silence me and beg forgiveness from the goddess for this ignorant son. It has been years since I last eaten those jellies, mother, how I wish I could eat those jellies that you made on Mid-Autumn's day again. They were delicious and sweet. But now, you are up there with the moon too, among the stars, and as I gaze up at the night skies, I missed you, your wisdom, though you did not attend school, your compassion, your faith in us, and I thank you, knowing you will guide us on in the darkest nights.


12/05/2013
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Shared on Poetry Pantry at Poets United.

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2013