Vagabond, 33 A.D

I may have been born 

Chinese American

but I dwell in the space 

between 

those two words

and those two 

worlds

it is both a

split and merged 

existence

an expanse as vast as

the ocean 

bridging the two

together

my body

a forbidden city 

housing a family of

liminalities

Cantonese or Mandarin

华人 or American citizen

an expat who felt more at home abroad

Christian amongst heathens

sinner and child of God

yes and 

Amen

my homeland is exile

the strands knitting my heart's

tapestry

are dyed the color

complicated

I am personification of

misunderstood

wandering the untamed wilderness

of my identity

it is in this desert of 

in-between

where His whisper 

is oasis,

an ear to the invisible cries

of people reduced to

background noise,

Polaris to this vagabond's 

midnight sky

Jesus 

the only God who lived in human flesh

tasted the vinegar of a

restless rootlessness

captain of the sea

of liminality

bridging fallen creation and redemption

with His own cross

cultural legacy

to create 

a new humanity

finally,

the vast space between

diversity and unity

are family

and every uprooted tree

is planted by an ever-flowing stream

where the water tastes of healing

where our thirst for belonging

is home