Waking in Wuhan

I’m lost inside
Minutes of afternoon sleep.
      I open my eyes, 
      Cool, renewed,
      My body, warm,
      Under a white cotton duvet.

Birds call out, searching for their mates.
A door shuts down the hall,
A lover creeps back into his room.
The world softens from dark slumber
To gentle shades of blue and white.
Green bamboo leaves sway,
Brushing softly against the window.
Waiting in delicious quiet,
The sunlight calls upon me.

Outside, along the path
The man’s hands clap clap clap
In tai-chi rhythms,
Applause for the day’s beauty,
My encouragement 
To face the afternoon.

In this new land,
I struggle to stop resisting.
Trace the lines along the leaves
With fingers that don’t rush,
Notice tones of language,
Inflections and voices,
So unfamiliar,
Somehow comforting.

I’ve left the West,
For only a few weeks,
Cast off the shroud of hurry,
Worry, bump and daily grind,
And find myself
Awake in Wuhan.

--Gail Kasun