A Foggy Morning in America

 

A Foggy Morning in America

By Tt
Greenwood, Virginia
June 28, 2026

(1)

I begin my day on a foggy morning in America.
My heart is heavy and aching.
A headline tells me:

"China Is Quietly, Permanently Trying to Erase Tibet."

My old, broken heart
wanders deeper into the foggy woods before me.

(2)

I search for something—
something that can part the fog before my eyes.
Life in America has opened the world to me,
yet something is still missing,
something whose name
only my soul remembers.

(3)

Who am I?

As a human being,
must I belong to an identity
that others insist on defining?

Why can't I live
like the trees before me,
standing quietly
within the morning fog?

I asked aloud.

(4)

Then, from somewhere beyond the fog,
a voice arose—
clear as crystal,
steady as a mountain.

"Your burden is nothing more
than your devotion to justice and truth."

"Yes," I answered.
"I cannot dishonor justice
or turn my back on the truth.

I cannot find any reason
to let Tibetans become the Han people."

The voice replied:

"Then fight.
Fight.
And fight."

"But I do not want to hurt anyone's feelings,"
I answered, almost helplessly.

The voice laughed.

"Then either make peace with the fog,
or hurry and cover the eyes
that recognize the truth."

(5)

The Hill highlights China's effort
to rebrand Tibet as "Xizang."

The Hill criticizes Western democracies
for their muted response.

Yet The Hill did not laugh at my hesitation.
Nor did it scoff
at Tibetan elites.

(6)

My understanding of humanity and its endless diversity makes my heart heavy and aching.

My human consciousness
eclipses the freedom
that America has given me.

My love for humanity,
my belief in equality,
have led my old, broken heart
deeper into these foggy woods.

(7)

I know I am lost

somewhere within this fog.

Yet the fog is not forever.

Somewhere beyond it,

truth still waits for dawn.

Until that morning comes,

I will keep walking.