It’s kind of ironic that I have come to Hanoi to write, and yet struggle to find time to write a regular blog post. But rest assured, although I have been quiet here, words have been written, and ideas are percolating, and adventures which will, one way or another, make their way into my future writings, are being had. Many of those adventures seem to involve traffic, a topic which seems to keep coming up in my writing and in my conversations.
Yesterday, talking with some lovely new friends about overcoming fears and taking risks, I found myself using an analogy, comparing the doubt we have about taking risks to the moments before crossing a busy Hanoi road. The moments when we wonder if the traffic will ever clear enough, and if we should risk it or just go back where we came from. And I talked about how, once you do take that first step, a pathway kind of appears – not a straight line but an awareness of the gaps. And how good it feels to get to the other side. As I said this, my friends nodded in agreement, and I knew I had to try to put all that into a poem. Before I show you what I came up with, here is a glimpse of the kind of road I mean. This footage was taken just after I had crossed both of the roads at a busy intersection (to end up diagonal from my starting point). It is actually an intersection with traffic lights and even walk signals but red lights and little green men do NOT mean the same thing here as they do elsewhere. And the most dangerous part is often on the pavement, because the motorbikes leave the road, cut the corner on the footpath, then duck back onto the road. You might get some sense of what I mean in the video.
The best part is – this is not the busiest road I have crossed.
Anyway, here’s my attempt to craft my analogy into a poem.
Crossings
Crossing a Hanoi road
is just a metaphor for life.
You stand poised on the edge
and you see
all the danger
the risks
the hazards
and you wonder if it’s safer
to just stay where you are.
But then you remember your goal
and you know
you can only do it
by leaving your safe spot.
So you assess the risks
watch for patterns
and gaps
and opportunities
and finally
take that first step.
There is no straight line.
There are noises
and smells
and moments of sheer terror
and you have to adjust your course
as you go
but when you get there
you smile
glad to be alive.
(Poem copyright Sally Murphy, 2018)
Today’s Poetry Friday Roundup is hosted by Brenda at Friendly Fairytales. Head over there to see links to loads of other poetry goodness. Have a good week – and watch out for motorbikes!
PS. This post, and my visit to Hanoi, are made possible by the amazing Asialink Arts Program, and with the funding support of the the Western Australian Government through the Department of Local Government, Sport and Cultural Industries.