Friday, May 8, 2020

오월에




진달래와 개나리라니
나 참...한숨
개나리가 필 때쯤이면
겨울이 갔구나 하며
추운 날들과 무채색에 지쳐있던 마음이 
흐드러지게 핀 노란꽃잎에 다시 설레기 시작하고 
가끔 오는 꽃샘 추위마저
귀엽게 느껴지곤 했는데
그러다 진달래가 피면 
드디어 봄이 왔구나 해서
기분 좋게 얇은 옷을 입고 
따스한 봄바람이 피부에 닿을 때마다 
무감각했던 세포들이 겨울잠 자던 동물들처럼
살아 움직이는 듯한 느낌에 설레었는데
아 이 동네 뭐지?
심지어 라일락마저 져가고 
장미가 피기 시작할 오월에
개나리와 진달래라니
그리 반갑던 꽃들이
왜 반갑지가 않지?
심지어 얘들을 보는데 왜 버럭 화가 나지?
3월과 4월을 도둑 맞은 느낌이랄까
여긴 여기대로의 시간이 있는데
어쩌면 쟤들의 시간이 
내 시간보다 더 정확한 건데
받아들였다가도
가끔은 울컥 
눈 돌릴 때마다 
그림처럼 펼쳐지는 하늘과 바다에 감탄하면서도
아직 이곳 계절에 적응되지 않은 
여전히 한국의 계절에 살고 있는 내 마음은
어쩌면
그리움
혹은 
이민자의 상실감


Azaleas and forsythias?
Oh, come on… sigh.

Back home, when the forsythias bloomed,
I would think, Winter is finally gone.
My heart, weary from the cold days and their gray monotony,
would begin to flutter again
at the sight of yellow petals bursting in joy.
Even the lingering chill of early spring
felt almost endearing then.

And when the azaleas bloomed,
I would know, Spring is truly here.
Happily, I’d put on lighter clothes,
and each time the gentle spring breeze touched my skin,
my dulled senses stirred awake—
like animals roused from hibernation.
And I felt alive again.

But here in Maine
even as May comes,
when lilacs are expected to fade
and roses about to bloom—
azaleas and forsythias appear.
Flowers that once thrilled me
now bring me no joy.
Why do they not delight me?
Why, instead, do they make me bristle with anger?

It feels as if March and April
were stolen from me.
This place has its own seasons,
its own time.
And maybe—just maybe—
their time is more accurate than mine.

I try to accept it…
but sometimes a wave of emotion rises.
Even as I marvel at the sky and sea
spreading before me like a painting,
my heart still hasn’t adjusted to the seasons here.
It still lives in the rhythm of Korea’s seasons.

Perhaps what I feel
is longing.
Or perhaps
the quiet grief of an immigrant.






built upon one another

Herring Cove Beach, Campobello Island As stacking balance rocks,  I assumed the most important thing is  for the stone beneath to be flat an...