Lost in the Valley of Souls
War does evil we don’t understand.
At night in the mist-gauzed, mountain rainforest,
the villagers set out bowls of food
for the ghosts of Vietcong and American soldiers.
The villagers claim to have seen Yankee specters,
big and tall in their wandering transparency.
They say that when they set out American food
those foreign ghosts devour it all,
too hungry for the U.S.A. to ever be satiated.
This is an amazing poem. Your Mother’s day poem had a message, yes, but this message really cuts. The depth of forgiveness of the Vietnamese people is truly astounding.
It’s a lesson unlearned by many cultures including my own and yours. Forgive and forget seems so hard for them. The Vietnamese make it look easy.
Guaj, when i first heard this story i knew i had to write about it.
Yes, a poem with a message: reconciliation of the dead for the living.
Thanks Dodgem. Apparently, the villagers try very hard to get the American food authentic for the GI ghosts. It is not just ritual to them.
I hadn’t realised until now that it is a true event; those people shame us with their compassion.