The Next Generation

This strong foreigner’s strength
Passed down through her father’s blood
And before that from Yangban
The honored class of scholars
To this woman who is now
The mother of my son
A boy the product of
An argument she won
With her stubborn logic
A precision of words
Unmistakably her own
Even though not
Of her mother tongue
Rather a language acquired
Through years of dutiful study
Confucius would be proud
Of this diligent student of mine
Who now runs my household
Like a general runs his camp
Sent me on an errand
For the required treats and candies
Returning I listened
In between spoonfuls of ice cream and rice
To a plea like the closing statement
Of a lawyerly Queen
Holding court in my living room
Against the disappointing backdrop
Of the ten o’clock news
History on her side
And tradition to boot
I have succumbed to the elements
And the forces of nature
Which have made me a father
Of this sparkling prized boy
Who owes his existence
In part to these words
Calling forth my compliance
With an ancient commandment
Yobo we must
Bring forth our next generation
Why you ask me
Husband I will tell you
The choice is not mine
Our blood
It is sacred like our love
Our blood
It must continue

And happiness swept over us
Like a cleansing rain
Dousing our love in water
From the holiest spring

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