"SHE STANDS
QUIETLY....."
Written by:
JACK
REED
December
1999
This "verse" I wrote under the caring encouragement of my friend (tomodachi) Emiko. She too is a fledgling writer, (a very gifted one too) and we do try to encourage one another, particularly in the area of writing about our observations of Japanese / American relationships and how the world looks at us. While no individual woman is the "subject" of this verse, the wonderful friends I have met have certainly been the inspiration behind it. I hope you enjoy my attempt at my observations of these, at times, uneasy, but profoundly deep and caring relationships. And of course, your comments are always welcome. Enjoy, and many thanks! Domo arigato gozaimasu.
I watch her....through the crowds at Namba Station...
She stands quietly, demure, gentle hands, slender fingers
neatly in front of her....
holding a package..wrapped, delicate...treasured....a gift..
I see her eyes flicker in the crowd...she is not watching...
she is looking...
for me....
her habit...brushes here silk black hair with a flick of her finger....
I smile at her habit....
she never looks at her watch...she knows...
I'll be there....
I
always am....
she
is proud, confident...independent...
and
I have learned to understand...
to
love that look...
she
is woman...
100%......
all
the very best things a woman can be...
I
love to just watch her...
just,
being "her"......
strong...at
same time, gentle....so very gentle...
beauty
from inside....
shows
on outside...
sometimes
I watch her sleep...
small,
fragile...curled in fetal position....
lock
of black hair in her face...
this
would never do in public place...
one
sock off...one on....
lost
somewhere on futon...
her
night T-shirt pulled slightly up ...
revealing
pretty legs.....
her skin a magical yellow hue...so pure...
Now,
she is standing before the world...
ready...brave...here....
I
let her see me.....
I
see her lovely dark almond eyes smile....
I
see her face smile....
she
nods her head ...
ever
so slightly....
hi...is
all she says....
I
smile back at her.....
I
can't help it...
she
makes me happy...
with
even a single word...
I
take her hand in mine...
she
looks up at me...
and
smiles again...
now,
in this place...
we
are the only two people...
in
all of Namba Station....
She
has magic...
when
she stands quietly...
she
asks for coffee...
we
go to our favorite place...
tucked
away from the crowd at Namba Station....
I
see pretty almond eyes look over her coffee cup....
into
my eyes...
we
are locked...alone...
she
tilts her head, smiles...
she
owns me with that look....
and
she knows it....
she
offers the gift...
wrapped
so beautifully....
domo....
I
open it..watching her....
watching
me...
smiling...that
smile again...
mysterious...
as
ancient as all of Japan, her smile is....
mine...
hers...
ours....
I
open the gift....
it
is one small cup....
I
ask why not two cups?
She
smiles....a thousand-year smile....
and
tells me......
The
cup is small,
fragile,
pure white,
it is small,
even in her tiny hands...
I watch as she offers it to me...
I take it from her hands...,,
my hands...,,
briefly lingers....,,
gently folds around...,,
oh so gently...,,
hers...
as I take the gift...
I nod politely...
trying oh so hard to be "Japanese"...
whatever that is...
my mystery...
her secret....
She explains...
people always want ...
things of their own...
of their very own...
but affairs of the heart...
require us to share...
love requires us to give..
to have some things...
together...
things that makes us...
one....
make us....
us...
this cup is a symbol of that...
it is not your cup...
it is not my cup...
if
there were two cups…
one
would be yours…
one
would be mine…
but,
with only one…
it is our cup...
that we may share from it...
as we do our hearts...
our life..
our thoughts...
our trust...
our love...
in one another...
for one another..
we may both partake from it...
at each our pleasure...
but, we must always remember...
to never let the cup become empty...
before we pass it back...
we must always remember to refill it...
for the pleasure....
of the other...
so, this cup,
will become like us...
our love,
our affair of the heart...
each at our pleasure...
never becoming empty...
it matters not the size...
it matters not the cost...
the value...
the value comes from what we give to it...
not what is given to us...
the size we will determine...at our pleasure...
the cost is immeasurable...
the cost is what our love is worth...
and there is no price for that, ne?
I smile...
she has me...
she knows it...
she knows....I know it....
lovely almond eyes look into...
my blue ones...
lovely hands of yellow hue,
close around my large rough
hands...
come....she says....
hai....
I gather our things...
she waits...
she stands quietly...
as she looks to me...
I rise...
follow....
cup held close to my heart...
"our" cup.....
it's not far she says....
she is ancient...
she is modern...
she is an Asian enigma...
silky black hair...
captures the sun’s light...
as she walks...
Taiyo loves her too...
she catches my hand...
she guides me to...
this place....
sampo...
we walk,
hand in hand,
arm in arm,
invisible,
we are "alone"
hitori..
in
a world of millions…
"U-E-O
Muite, aruko"
I sing to myself,
she looks to me...
surprised...
that gaijin should know this song...
she holds my arm tighter...
with
both her soft yellow hands…content…
soft evening winds..
feather her hair...
pretty almond eyes dance...
flick of the finger...
hair in place...
she doesn't know...
she looks so pretty....
when slightly mussed...
cup now held between
our joined palms...
somehow joining us...
ours...
we stop now...
she goes to shrine...
her body sways....
as she tugs at the rope...
bells sings into early evening air...
gods now awakened...
they surely must find her as lovely as I do...
go-yen...
thrown...
payment...
clap of hands...
twice...
she stands quietly...
secrets shared...
with
ancient gods…
as ancient as Japan...
it lives within her...
I am gaijin...
to
home now...
shoes abandoned....
geta baka....
her small bare feet...
slightly pigeon-toed...
endearing...
pad against tatami mat...
all woman....
still, girl...inside...
"Jack San"...
"Hai"
"O-cha desu ka?"
"Hai"
tea for two...
in "one cup"...
kettle whistles...
barefoot...
one foot upon the other...
as she stands quietly...
softly...
then, from her...
"You're here...there's nothing I fear"...
"and I know that the heart will go on..."
voice gentle, on key...lilting, lovely…
she sings...
to herself...
shy glance...
shy smile...
to me....
Quick...
shy...
kiss...
on corner of my mouth...
her yellow hue...
deepens...
pretty cheeks flushed, turn red…
eyes down...
tug at my hand...
she sits us...
feet ...
legs...
folded...
delicately...
kyojaku-na hana...
she sits...
not easy...
not a position...
for gaijin...
one hand under cup...
one hand around cup...
she sips ocha...
turning the cup...
she passes to me...
my large hands...
from small te...
fingers tracing over hers...
I take the cup...
sip quietly...
cup is warmed....
not by ocha...
by her....
dark almond eyes...
look into mine...
we are quiet...
words unspoken...
ringing out...
she sits quietly...
poise...
grace...
beauty...
old as Nippon...
young as haru...
night sounds...
outside our window...
ikebana...
on small table...
woven...
fashioned...
shaped...
by her...
ima...
a part of her...
her flowery thoughts...
in arrangement...
Kitaro plays so very softly...
music in the air...
her scent...
as gentle as she...
fills my senses...
"Jack-San"
"Hai"
hands over mine now...
small white cup...
on small white saucer...
Stands quietly...
Moving...
like grace...
fluid...a perfumed oil...
satin...
comes to my side...
small...
feet bare...
curled under slender...
legs
of yellow cast...
head against my chest...
she rests...
she sits quietly...
two
hearts...
lub...lub...
dub...dub...
in
rhythm
beating...
as
one...
like
our cup...
as
one...
time
passages...
clock
spinning backwards..
sun
rising from west...
sun
setting in east..
sunrises...sunsets...on her now...
center
of my world...
which
everything ..
spins
round...
back
I go...
I
drift back...
to
first time we meet...
clumsy...
large
hands...
hashi...
wooden
sticks...
in
crowded restaurant...
a
thousand years ago...
watching...
watching...
gaijin...
sticks
prove to be
treacherous
enemy...
first
up...
then
down...
split...
never
together...
warm
blush on my face...
suddenly...
soft
yellow hands appear...
closing
over mine...
directing...
instructing...
loving...
caring....
show
me the way...
eyes
on mine now...
soft
Asian eyes...
touch
of smile at corners of pretty mouth...
it is her hands...
i
see first...
move
me...
sensation
in my body...
in my mind..
hers...
to
mine...
delicate...
yet
sure...
confident...
hands
of love...
passing
it...
from
hers...
to
mine...
it is her hands I see first...
it
is her hands I love first...
it
is her hand in mine...
that
still moves me...
she
stirs...
now...
in
quiet repose...
buried
against me...
safe...
protected...
secure...
loved...
sleepy
voice…
purrs…like
neko…
"Jack
San"...
"hai"...
"tell
me...
onegai,
what
did you notice about me....
first?"
i
smile at the question...
I
hope this story helps you understand me better and to begin to know about me
Anata
no Amerikajin tomodachi,
Jack