Where? Wapi? 어디?

Where should she go?

 

Should she go here or there?

Could she blink and it all be there?

Or all be gone?
 

 

The girl wonders.

Her mind wanders.

Her dreams grow.

Her fears emerge.

 

What if...

What if everything?

What if nothing?

 

'Where should she go?'

 This is the question on her mind.

Devoting her mind to trust is her wish.
'All things through Him.'
 

She could go anywhere.
She could do anything.

Anywhere.
Anything.

All the possibilities encompassed in these two words is astounding.
It is daunting.
Inspiring.

She is excited.
Anxious.

Then she remembers.
As she wishes to always remember, unceasingly.
'Lo, I am with you always.'

Comforting.
Warming.

Anything, anywhere with the perfect travel Companion and Guide.

"The Lord will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters
 never fail."
~ Isaiah 58:11
 

 

 

 

 



Stars. Nyota. 별.

Stars.

The captured moments of dreaming found every night.

Found every night, and yet treasured so little.

 

They have arrested man's awe for centuries.

Holding in their shining visages enchanting facets.

 

Constant.

Bright.

 

They are reminders of moments spent in joy.

 Of moments spent in tears.

Of hearts overflowing with happiness.

And also sorrow.

 

The black sky becomes fascinating with a sprinkle of sparkle. 

Mysterious astral bodies.

 

In the dark her face can hardly be seen gazing into the heavens.

There is a slight smile on her face.

Pleasantly contented with staring into the depths of the blackened sky.

Forever lost in the expanse of night.

She dreams.

She reminisces.

 

Her heart smiles.

The glitter of the heavens reflects in her emerald eyes.

The sparkle will remain in them even after she has gone under the roof.

 

Longing and nostalgia creeps in.

Tears fall.

Her own rain, from her heart.

 

Stars are dots on the map of her heart.

They hold an extraordinary place in her life.
Representing memories she wishes to always remember.

 

Stars are a beacon.

A beacon to remember moments by.

하늘에 빛나던 별이
저 멀리 빛나던 별이
내 맘에 내려왔나봐

가슴에 새겨진 별이
가슴에 빛나던 별이
아마 너인것 같아

떨리는 소리가 들리니
Oh, star
뜨거운 심장을 느끼니
You're my star

아주 오랜 먼 옛날부터 나 꿈꿔왔던 사랑이
너인걸 알아
언제나 함께 해줘

아주 오랜 시간을 너도
늘 같은 자리에서 빛나주길
내맘 너에게만 빌려줄게

Star ~ Kang Min Kyung

 

 

 


 

Storms. Dhoruba. 폭풍우.

Storms.

She sits and waits.
 

The cold air swooshes in...

All around her.

It envolopes her in the delightfulness of its presence.

Coolly caressing her face.

The amorphous winds play with gossamer strands of hair.

 

Thunder rumbles its expectancy.

Lightning shows its brilliance.

 

 

She waits for the drops to fall.

 

 

There maybe could be nothing more magnificent than an impending storm.

That is except for the storm itself.

 

 

The leaves hanging whisper and rustle, performing their song composed by the wind.

The branches on the trees dance in the wind with the thrill of the coming precipitation.

The trees, parched and dry, bend and bow in their own gambol.

The wind carries along with it dust and the sound of its aggrandizing gusts.

 

 

Darkness is greatening.

The sky becomes smudged.

Aphotic here and there.

 

 

Small spots of radiance show where the billows are not as thick,

proving to her that the sun is still there.

It is just kindly giving the clouds some time to themselves.

 

 

Again the thunder clears it's throat.

She shivers.

 

 

It becomes quiet.

The first drop falls.

Followed by others.

They create their own ballad.

 

살랑살랑살랑 두근두근두근

 

It is here.

사랑비가 내려오네요.

Rain.

 

 

 

Its time for Rooibos.

 

　

　

　



Leaving. Kuondoka. 떠나.

 

Leaving.

Always leaving.

Always being left behind.

 

 

 

 

Change in situation and company is always imminent. 

 

Her life revolves around the mourning period that comes with departing.

 

Always.

She is always on her way.

Never permanent.

Always the transient.

 

 

 

 

Part of her wishes for an immutable world.

No change.

　

Because change is scathing.

Separation is painful.

Leaving hurts.

　

Not wanting to let go, she cries.

For all the friendships lost.

All the memories past.

All the times missed.

　

For all the friendships that will be lost.

For all the memories that will become the past.

For all the times that will be missed.

She cries.

 

Tears falling like the rain she loves.

Sorrow flows within these droplets.

Her heart mourns.

　

She once again mentally packs up her heart into a shell.

Trying to ensure that it won't be hurt again.

 

Leaving.

 

Always leaving.

Always being left.

내 마음이 아파

　

 

　

　

　



Africa. Afrika. 아프리카.

The love of Africa is in her blood and bones.

 

People say that once you get a taste of Africa you can't stay away for long.
She has tasted it all her life.

 

 

She has never been gone long.

She has always belonged here, though she doesn't match on the outside.

Belonging on the inside.
Always the inside.
The part no one can see.

How she wishes that they could see.
That they could see her heart.
And how it beats only for the dusty soil of the Dark Continent.

How she wishes they could understand.
They live in their insular cosmos.
Not grasping her world.
 

Apart from her mother country she is never for long.

 People ask how she can live there and she thinks how can they not?

  Born and raised.

Africa is a part of her.

 Kiswa-english is the language of her heart.
She is an American African.

People ask where she's from.
They ask where she wants to go.
They ask where she dreams of.
Her answer will always be,

Africa.
 

 

 

 

 

 

Rain. Mvua. 비.

Rain.

 The smell of the droplets falling on the dried earth. The feel of it falling on upturned hands. The sight of water falling from the heavens. The sound of it pattering on the roof.  The taste of the freshest water descending from the hovering clouds.

 

 

Rain brings with it the relief from the unbearable heat, the promise of new crops and the joy of the rapt girl standing under its falling droplets.

 

The wind catches her hair and it flows over her wet shoulder.

She tilts her face towards the heavens and revels in the sensational feeling of dropping rain.

 

African rain holds a special place in her heart. It represents the fondest childhood memories. Rainy season is nonpareil in her mind.

 

Rain pulls on her heart strings and makes her smile.

To her the moments captured under the falling beads are the most dramatic and breathtaking.

 

She wishes that it would stay and prolong the cold magic of its presence.

Not complying the rain stops. Leaving behind it a damp and quenched earth.

 

She desperately wishes that it would return. The clouds stay, holding her joy in their dark billows.

 

She quietly whispers, "Come quickly. 나는 비에 키스 할."

 

 

자 눈을 감고 들어봐
투명한 빗방울들이
날 대신해 귓가에 사랑한다 속삭이는
수줍은 이노래를
거리 가득 작은
우산속 연인처럼
너의 손잡고 어디든 걷고 싶어
온몸이 다 젖어도 좋은걸

 

사랑은 비처럼 포근했던 봄처럼
나를 꿈꾸게해
눈이 닫는 곳마다 난 너만 보여
천천히 다가가 오늘은 말해줄까
내리는 이 비 타고
내 사랑이 네게 닿았으면
그 입술 빗방울도 나였으면

 

   ~ Love is Like Rain, Na Yoon Kwon