To My Shan Angel

Prose & Poetry: By May Ng

We have left behind our thoughts, our dreams, our love, and desperate feelings, with our footsteps and wounded reflections, in the Shan state of Burma; you and I.

One single question, being forced to answer again and again my whole life was, ‘which side was I on?’ Of course, the same as now, I never believed in taking sides. Not because I knew enough about being right from wrong or good from evil. Truth was; the issues dividing us were not the real issues dividing Burma.

In a world of uncertainty, I was pledged to all sides and to no side at all. While I was being condemned to the oblivion of no man’s land, you provided me with a safety net, a soft landing. Most of all, your boundless love protected me from the troubled world.

We spent our lives under a patriarchal system, and never realized that opinions come in all shapes and sizes, and that they all equally matter. It is a little too late to realize that now; but a world without opinions is like an ocean without shores; a land without horizons and love without hopes. That was the Burma I knew and remembered, before embarking on my ‘journey without dreams.’

We have become observers of ourselves; our own strangers; never able to reach the inner sanctum of our longings. Sometimes, we have to escape and break free, to see the truths behind our tears, and feel the hopes beneath our fears.

Me, a traveler, with heavy loads and limited options; it was ‘you’ who provided me with the reason for living; and the reason to remember our ancient history in the Shan State of Burma. 

 I owe you my soul, for you have made me, made me complete.

 

  To My Shan Angel

_ By   May Ng       

 As usual life has humbled me beyond words

Destiny out of my control

My own fate already set

As if written on the stone

 

Challenged time and again

Surprises beyond

Unforeseen turns and mountain passes

Heading forward into the unknown

 

Clutching, hanging on

With thumping heart in throat

Still believing

Feeling, knowing, hoping for

The trickling sound of a running brook

And singing birds hidden in the willow

Of opening yellow petals readying for the flutter of the butterflies

Ground beneath shifting constantly

Sensing with the force of full moon tide

And our time together under the sunny, warm, fragrant jasmine flowers

Where you had kissed with virgin fervor

 

Joy as high as darting swallows

In the clear, blue, cool, noon sky

 

Remembering the handmade intricate teak cradle

My father had lovingly built

He never lived in my waking life

Though I sprouted from his seed

And will always feel the comfort of that sturdy cradle

Gently rocking in the hands of my loving ‘SHAN’ angel

With wings of smoky golden light