Waves

words by Diana Zhang, art by Ananya Sairaman

my father said to never forget where the motherland is 

looking away to the waves

he said 

“when I die, 

carry my body back to the motherland 

and bury me 

in the same soil my mother’s mother had watered”

guilt hikes up from my stomach  

and swims with seawater in my throat

I’m choking 

on his words I can no longer repeat 

oh mother,

I’m soaked in the patriotism of it all

my fingers pruning more and more, unrecognizable   

I’m staring at them 

pondering my belonging  

my father shows me new pictures of our little town  

memories of skipping stones, of mud walls, of comfort 

Now city of the digital age  

Mud dried to concrete 

oh mother, 

I’m terrified of the long-awaited return 

when I step into your discomfort 

the town will whisper

Have you ever heard of a child 

who doesn’t recognize her own mother 

but there is peace in the water 

waves caressing my skin

leaving trails of tranquil beads 

the same way it did years ago

looking at the waves 

I think

one day 

I would go and tell my children 

to spread my ashes on both sides 

of the pacific ocean 

I will be 

—longing for the day 

the waves collide