My Youth In Asia

i was eight the first time- i saw Yin-Yang Mountain. the height of it’s peak contrasted by the light on one side dark on the other. as the sun travels from east to west the color of the slopes change- the light becoming dark the dark becoming light. i stand on the peak of Yin-Yang Mountain watching the shifting light and dark. the line dividing the sinuous halves is my being. am I dark or light? a white line or a black line? i am the curve between. i am the difference. i am the deciding factor. i stand now beside the River of Life. my feet bare- i step into the cool waters observing the shifting reflection and shadow. the current swirls the dark and the light. this life giving, fluid filled gully brings darkness when one is consumed by its waters. above the light is reflected- below it is swallowed. soothed i sit- resting below the shelter of the Tree of Constance. the trunk is thick made of layers of living matter within- dead matter out. the dead bark surrounds the living core- protecting. from this sturdy core branches shoot towards the light. from those branches shoot buds- which contain life-giving seeds. the seeds fall to the ground below. laying upon the dark mineral rich earth- i imagine. below my body burrow insects and roots. they depend upon the fertile ground for survival. humans have turned this earth into a burial ground for the fallen. the rotting bodies consumed in darkness feed the creatures who dwell in the earth. these departed whisper knowledge to fallen seeds. imparting wisdom- to ensure growth. I return to the peak- of Yin-Yang Mountain. from this peak i observe the mixture around me. here on this peak I know the answers. i am the wisdom. this knowledge has paralyzed me. with this gift i have been silenced. i am the dividing line- i am the question. with faith I fall- from the peak of Yin-Yang Mountain into the icy waters of the River of Life. it’s turbulent ebb and flow fills me with life and destroys me when dragged upon its floor. i wash upon the shore gasping for air- clinging to the root. I succumb. i begin to rot- feeding the earth- that feeds the tree- that thrives beside the river- which dwells upon the slopes of Yin-Yang Mountain. here i will remain- until discovered- and then understood- this my Youth in Asia.