Do you see the me I see?

Do you see the fields of rice

and the years of occupation?

Or do you see

the fighting for my freedom from the English people?

Do you see the careful classy calligraphy of the past

or the scrawled rushed words of the present?

Do you see the ying and yang

that shows the good and bad –

that shows peace and the balance of the universe?

Or do you see the stars white

and the banner red and blue?

Do you see my broad stars through the perilous fight?

Do you see the infinity of my ying yang

in the land of the free?

Do you hear the rise and fall of the language in the articulate consonants of my English tongue?

Do you feel the silk of my gowns,

or the soft cotton of my sweaters?

Do you taste the spices that burn

or the sugary sweets that melt on contact?


YOU ask me who I am

You expect an easy answer back-

I am not one thing.

I am  not “half” Korean and “half” American

        I am modu

I am both.

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