Looking at the distant horizon line
Where the blue sea kisses the sky
Searching the heading of my native land
Where sticky rice formed my past stand
Seagulls circling the mild sunny sea
Where people surf, swim and ski
I want to borrow their large strong wings
To fly back to affect all the remembering
The ocean wind swings my heart
Swaying small boat that floated apart
Fought with strong wave to reach motherland
But the long exilic years obstruct and disband
Blocked by the distant cutting line
My heart seems to be confined
Living in the home of the free and the brave
But my soul visits its native land by sea wave
Xaysouvanh Phengphong
6 April 2012