Tweed-Jacket Ii Poem by Kathup Tsering

As I roam with the moon overhead
I come to my black tent standing in the tent camp
I enter and restlessly try to sleep
the moons light keeps me company
from behind a soft haze

I am reminded of my mother
as I hear the blowing of the Yak-horn
the misery she suffered comes swiftly to my thoughts
herdsmen graze their Yak on the Plateau
unconcerned under the cover of this night sky

A shooting star, protecting, brilliant
is a sign my mothers love surrounds me
And the uncertainty of life is just a passage
I feel the presence of my home
as I wrap myself in my warm tweed jacket

Oh, grieve not
life passes through winters mind
and an unfolding smile takes form upon my face
as the sweet grassland grows under my feet
I gather the scattered Yaks

ready to return home