Communi-tea

By Prasanta Verma

L

et us speak of the days
Of life-giving rivers and always
Remember the stories
Our ancestors told
They bend over now, growing old
They hold our hands, hold our hearts
Their eyes pleading that we listen
Before they depart
Sharing generational stories and songs
From Korea, India, China, the Philippines
Cambodia and Laos to Hong Kong

Our young folk are blossoming
Growing with faith burgeoning
And longing for belonging
We hold their hands as they
Enter new phases of life
They herald a new dawning

We all sit under the same sky
We live, breathe, laugh, and cry
We all sit at the table, we all have a seat
And no, for our future there will be no defeat
Of our identity, for we are found
Standing on this rock solid ground
With joys and loves, of a faith
That is sweet, solid, and sound

We are not a myth
Of a minority nor a monolith
Foreign, we are perpetually not
Asians aren’t a footnote,
An afterthought
Foreign, we are perpetually not,
Perpetually loved—this is our lot

To be Asian in the US
Is to be a minority
But the truth is an irony
In the world we are a majority
But in America to create solidarity
We made up Asian American
To encapsulate everyone

God delights in our face
Designed it with grace
Hate cannot erase
The beauty with which
We are made 
In truth, we are rooted
Our dignity, from God, transmuted
A kingdom where all are included

We are beloved 
beautifully made 
to love and be loved
All debts are paid
We are not ashamed
To have our heritage displayed
Don’t want to live in a masquerade
Running from hate, feeling afraid 

With our pork buns, rice, and kimchi
Noodles, curry, ramen, and sushi
Dim sum, satay, biryani
Yes, brothers and sisters 
We are fearfully and wonderfully made
Very Asian, in every skin shade

Boba tea, Green, Black, and “Chai Tea”
We are a communi-tea
A blending of brown
Born swirling from a womb of hope
From the darkness to home

We belong to God
We belong to each other
We are beloved 
Sisters and brothers
Known and loved 
Perpetually
Not a foreign entity

The color of our skin
Is a gift wrap
And we are all within
this beloved community
In solidarity, 
In beautiful, beloved
Communi-tea

Photo by 五玄土 ORIENTO on Unsplash

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Prasanta Verma is a writer and poet. She was born under an Asian sun, raised in the Appalachian foothills, and is currently digging out of a snow pile in the upper Midwest. She holds an MBA and an MPH, is a regular contributor to The Mudroom Blog and Three-Fifths.online, and a freelance editor with Christianity Today. She has an upcoming book titled Beyond Ethnic Loneliness releasing in early 2024, and her work has been published in numerous print and online venues, including Guideposts Pray a Word a Day volumes, The Indianapolis Review, SoJourners, The Curator Magazine, Propel Sophia, (in)courage, Relief Journal, and more. Connect with her on Instagram @prasantaverma, her website prasantaverma.com, or on Substack.

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