[Emagazine]: The Lullaby of the Earth

All human beings, in the end, experience impermanence; their bodies find refuge in and dissolve into Mother Earth. Mother Earth, in turn, shelters and embraces each returning child, comforting them with her gentle, timeless lullabies.

I was born and raised in a village, my head bathed in golden sunlight, my bare feet treading on the fragrant, fresh mud of the fields. I don't know when the river of my homeland began to flow like a mother's milk, overflowing within me. Nor do I know when the land where I was born and raised silently permeated my soul, brimming with compassion like a lullaby sung in a hammock. For me, Mother Earth is a peaceful place to return to, to cherish the love of my homeland, and to feel a strange sense of pride and affection. Mother Earth has always been like this: nurturing, loving, and cultivating seeds. We sow love into the earth, and the earth will blossom with happiness.

From the day I took my first tentative steps, Mother Earth nurtured me, strengthening my resolve. As I grew older, my childhood was spent running and playing in the countryside, the soft grass of Mother Earth nourishing my innocent, carefree days. Mother Earth became the path to school, echoing with the joyful sounds of learning in my beloved village. I continued along these warm, peaceful days, Mother Earth being the embankment, the gentle sound of kites in the tranquil afternoons. Smoke from someone's thatched roof drifted lazily upwards in my humble homeland, and flocks of white cranes flew to a land of fairy tales.

Motherland is where father sows rice seedlings, where mother plants rice, shedding sweat and toil, yet smiles of harvest still radiate sunshine on their lips. Mother, burdened by heavy loads of rice, spreads it on the ground to dry, the front yard bathed in the golden hue of rice and sunlight.

The fragrant, sticky rice from Mother Earth nourished us as we grew up, guiding us to school and to new horizons. I will always remember the sticky rice balls and sweet potatoes my mother wrapped in banana leaves for me to take to school, or the simple country meals with the braised fish that my mother hastily prepared with the fresh fish my father had just caught. All of this is thanks to the love from the fertile land of Mother Earth.

“Our homeland is vast, and our mother's heart is boundless!” (*), whether it's the land or the mother, love is immense and boundless. Perhaps that's why people call the land "motherland"? Because the land is mother, it also has lullabies. Lulling away the foolish and the wise, lulling away anxieties, lulling away lost souls. I don't know how many times I've returned to embrace my mother, shedding tears of regret, belatedness, and sorrow. Motherland has absorbed everything, and from her garden blossoms flowers, sprouts tender green leaves, and a breeze of hope blows from somewhere. The land lulls me with a song of sacrifice, of growth, and ultimately, of tranquility and peace. Tranquility and peace, like the land itself, through wind, rain, and storms.

Life has swept me through so many ups and downs, and looking back, I realize I've been connected to this land for decades. Those decades have seen so many reunions and separations, so many partings, but Mother Earth has always remained for us. Mother Earth is a faithful lover from the beginning of time; no matter where we go, the land remains there, nurturing the seeds of rice and potatoes, nurturing the belief in a place to return to, always with open doors.

Is it true that things that come easily are not appreciated and are easily forgotten? In this hectic and competitive life, everyone wants to reach the top in one go, harboring lofty illusions of unattainable things. People boast, deceive others, and deceive themselves; I too want to pluck the stars from the sky, but I forget that no matter how high you fly, your starting point is always the ground. People also forget that when you fall, the earth always extends its arms to support and protect you. Is there any love as gentle and understanding as Mother Earth? Is there anyone who embraces rivers, mountains, and seas without forgetting the tiny seeds struggling through countless lifetimes until they take shape?

All human beings, in the end, experience impermanence, their bodies finding refuge and dissolving into Mother Earth. Mother Earth, in turn, shelters and embraces each returning child, comforting them with the gentle lullaby of eternity. A lullaby with mother, father, homeland with rice paddies and egrets. A lullaby with long rivers and vast oceans, a lullaby with millions of human hearts struggling in this earthly realm.

Then Mother Earth lulls us into cycles of reincarnation!

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(*) Excerpt from the poem "Our Vast Homeland" by poet Bui Minh Quoc.

Content: Lac Yen

Photo: Nguyen Thang (compiled from the Internet)

Graphics: Mai Huyen

Source: https://baothanhhoa.vn/emagazine-loi-ru-cua-dat-252707.htm