The River in Our Blood Wang Ping
Wang Ping is a Chinese-American author and academic. Her writings center around the past and present of China, and the experiences of Chinese immigrants who live in America. She is currently an Associate Professor of English at Macalester, and teaches courses in creative writing and poetry. Wang has been the recipient of awards from the National Endowment for the Arts, the New York Foundation for the Arts and the New York State Council for the Arts for poetry, the Minnesota State Arts Board for fiction, Bush Foundation for the Arts (poetry), McKnight Fellowship for creative non-fiction, Lannan Foundation residency in Marfa, Vermont Studio Center residency. Wang Ping's "The River in Our Blood: A Sonnet Crown," will be presented in installments over the winter.
The River in Our Blood
A Sonnet Crown
By Wang Ping
I
The geese are painting the sky with a V, my lord
The Mississippi laughs with its white teeth
How fast winter flees from the lowland, my lord
And how’s the highland where songs forever seethe?
At the confluence, I sing of the prairie, my lord
My joy and sorrow soar with rolling spring
Its thunder half bird, half mermaid, my lord
No poppies on hills, only ghost warriors’ calling
Today is chunfeng—share of spring, my lord
Two spirits, one on phoenix wings, one on lion’s seat
Across the sea, kindred spirits, my lord
Prayer through breaths, laughing children on the street
Let’s open our gift, acorn of small things
Let river move us without wants or needs
II
Cycad
for Robert Bjorgum
Let river move us without wants or needs
Let cycads carry their fruit in naked seeds
No flower to adorn your heart, roots pulling
Food from sand, stones. What magic in your seed
White flesh burns the nerves of the ignorant
What desire or love wedged in your coned seed?
Along colored veins—Age of Cycads—rings
Of truths. In your dried palm, an open seed
Naked to sun and moon, herbivores’ teeth carry
You across the chasm. In the crown, a seed
Running from pole to pole—the Sea was one
Body, unhinged, spewing lava into your seed
You’re not shadows from Permian of China
Look at this beauty–so simple in your agate seed
III
Look at this beauty-so simple in your agate seed
A blue jay calls from the river’s blue mouth
What runs from a roof, flows to the East Sea?
What winds towards north, then spills into South?
Last night on the highland, snow and rain
Winter’s muddy feet drag behind spring's fawn
In the valley, sounds of a whooping crane
A wheel barrow, copper etched by the dawn
The river has broken the rein of ice
Taking boulders, trees, teeth of dams…swirling
To the waists of cottonwoods, oaks, grilles, spice
Who can stop her riding on eagles’ wings?
Truth can’t be drowned in books or winner’s lie
Moon on river’s bend, long day of mayfly