An Impermanent Flower

The Ullumbana season has come. Thinking of parents, my heart seems to burst into tears, my eyes sudden in peppery-hot fume of dream. It drizzled on a lonely autumn afternoon, causing my heart got slack to remember the childhood. An ancient lullaby seems to be sounded vaguely beside me in my whole life .

Mother is like a smoothly flowing stream

Father’s work as a highly mountain.

Wind blows a peaceful lullaby

Mother sings meaningful folk songs

Sweet children! if you want to grow up

Listen to parents carefully

Lullaby echoes everywhere

But filial verses have not paid yet.

(Folk)

Mom! Your lullaby is like soft melody leading me to a caressing hug, giving a kiss into a pensive forehead; it is like a wish of getting sound sleep. When I am lonely, their whispering lullaby adds me wings to fly higher and further on the dream. It also leads me to an endless sweet dream; and brings me to nameless happiness.

Her lullaby is a sweater leading me to enter in dense chilly winds. It is a pink umbrella protecting me from frosty winter, an echo angel-singing which is deep, warm heating my heart beyond stormy life, envy, jealousy, slandering, etc. Love of Mother’s heart always protects her children as spring sunshine shining in chilly world to melt the thick snow after freezing days, heatening green sprouts germinating from tough parks.

Late sunshine finally lights faintly for the night appearance. Either day or night, Father’s advice always stay in my heart. He is my encouragement of entering into life. He is a torch flashing up my impermanent steps. When my heart was broken, or difficulty got me down, his shadow would be beside me to cover and instruct me.

He always reminds me: "Do no spend time learning to treat in business, but learning to become an honest business that is responsible for its own mistakes. Spend time and money doing good things in public. Do not treat anybody. Treating someone doesn’t mean you can treat your conscience. Never have someone lose their hope, because there will be a moment you get hopelessness. Please attain knowledge, bravery, tolerance and forgiveness! Looking back what you’ve experienced, regret what you’ve undone instead of what you’ve completed. I always wait for you, love you, because you’re my treasure.”

Parents’ love always glitters as dew, which become twinkly colorful under the sunshine. Its sublimation will harmonize with each gesture, action, from the eyes’s glaring to smiling. That beauty sows you an impressive view. Now, parent’s shadow is to my heart. It is just an erstwhile memories, rushing back sometimes, which is enough to sooth people, like a showery rain on a drought.

I know that union and separation is a common sense of the world, but I never forget his hardness but emotionally draining words. Mother’s lullaby is a folk, a fairy tale in my soul from the childhood to the growing up day. It harmonizes with my blood and mind, encourages me to sustainably step into difficult and suffering world. This love means giving without receiving anything. Much sweating and tear dropping was falling because of me. I recognize it is like water of willow branch of Bodhisattva sprickling the heart to release suffering and heal the wounds.

However, I am so painful hearing some stories. In this jealous, competing life, filial duty becomes less. The disloyal filial duty unfolds popularly in the newspapers and the television. When the mother gets ill and needs your caring, you thank her by giving a book with title “How do parents become a burden?” Then, one day, she will die quietly. What you’ve never thought suddenly collapses. Please, think of this before it’s too late.

It’s a touched story of filial duty, isn’t it?

And now, without parents, this world gets wild. I get disappointed, lonely when they - a foundation of spirit, an encouragement, a safe shelter – disappeared. They left forever.

I remember a period that my mother waited for my return after school under the roof; my father quietly sipped a cup of cool tea at the corner after his work. I was still a mischievous kid wandering outdoor. Till I turn back, my parents have gone far away. Now, please let me apologize for making both of you hurt. I am so regretful.

It’s just a late tear dropping on each paper when parents have gone away. Passed time never comes back. I finally recognize that a little happiness is having and living with parents; how their deep love for me.

The clouds fly on the sky like floating smoke. Quickly hiding and appearing so funny, they seem to lead my parents to the deeply Western World. A white rose will always bloom in my heart. On each Ullumbana Day, it gets more colorful and beautiful so that I could feel the endless love of my parents.

Hoang Phap Pagoda, June 5th2017

Translated into English byCam Nhung

Nguyen Thanh Thao