《時空大合奏》
海風吹過百年的山坡，
吹過木屋的窗櫺，
吹過那些曾經被反覆刻寫與被掩埋的詩句。
有人來過。
有人離開。
有人在這裡等待命運的宣判，
有人把思鄉與抗爭刻進牆上。
那時，
這裡裝滿生存的重量。
恐懼、思念、離別，憤怒，焦慮，勇氣，抗爭，互助，愛…
像潮水一樣漲落。
鼓聲未曾響起，
只有遠方故鄉的迴聲
以及新大陸的召喚。
—
而今天，
孩子們奔跑在草地上。
有人野餐，
有人演奏，
有人舞獅，
有人靠著家人的肩膀睡著。
他們不一定知道百年前發生過什麼，
卻把笑聲留在了同一片土地。
陽光落在樹葉上，
海鳥掠過海面，
太鼓的節拍穿過人群，
彷彿大地重新長出了一顆心臟。
咚——
咚——
咚——
那不是一個人的心跳。
是海洋的，
是山坡的，
是移民的，
是後代的，
是所有來過這裡的人共同的心跳。
—
我忽然明白，
歷史不會因為快樂而消失。
真正被記住的傷痛，
反而有能力承載新的歡笑。
記憶與遺忘，
並非彼此對立。
一個保存故事，
一個讓生命繼續生長。
於是，
知道歷史的人帶來懷念與傳承，
不知道歷史的人帶來好奇與新生。
老人、小孩、遊客、志願者，
樹木、海浪、飛鳥、鼓聲，
過去、現在、未來，
在同一個午後相遇。
成為一場盛大的時空大合奏。
—
如果說，
上半場是生存。
那麼，
下半場便是創造。
創造新的相遇，
新的記憶，
新的歌聲，
新的歸屬。
讓這座島嶼不只是見證離散與排斥，
也見證團圓與包容；
不只是收藏眼淚，
也收藏笑容。
—
今天，
我把自己的心跳留在這裡。
願未來來到天使島的人，
都能聽見這片土地輕輕訴說：
曾經有人在這裡努力活下去。
而後來，
終於有人在這裡自由生活。
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A Grand Symphony Across Time
Dedicated to the Angel Island Immigration Museum
Written on the Angel Island Family Day June 13th, 2026.
The ocean wind breathes across century-old hills,
through the windows of wooden barracks,
across the poems once carved, concealed, and rediscovered.
Some arrived.
Some departed.
Some waited here for fate to decide their future.
Some carved their longing and resistance into the walls.
Back then,
this place carried the weight of survival.
Fear, longing, separation,
anger, anxiety, courage,
resistance, mutual aid, love—
rising and falling like the tides.
The drums had not yet begun.
There were only echoes of distant homelands
and the call of a new continent.
—
And today,
children run across the grass.
Families gather for picnics.
Musicians perform.
Lions dance.
Someone falls asleep on the shoulder of a loved one.
They may not know what happened here a century ago,
yet they leave their laughter upon the very same land.
Sunlight rests upon the leaves.
Seabirds glide above the water.
The rhythm of taiko drums moves through the crowd,
as if the earth itself has grown a new heart.
Boom—
Boom—
Boom—
It is not the heartbeat of one person.
It is the heartbeat of the ocean,
the hills,
the immigrants,
their descendants,
and all who have ever passed through this island.
—
Suddenly, I understand:
History does not disappear because joy returns.
The wounds that are truly remembered
become strong enough to carry new laughter.
Memory and forgetting
are not enemies.
One preserves the stories.
The other allows life to keep growing.
And so,
those who know the history bring remembrance and stewardship.
Those who do not know it bring curiosity and renewal.
Elders, children, visitors, volunteers.
Trees, waves, birds, drums.
Past, present, and future
meet within a single afternoon,
becoming a grand symphony across time.
—
If the first half was survival,
then the second half is creation.
The creation of new encounters.
New memories.
New songs.
New ways of belonging.
May this island witness
not only separation and exclusion,
but reunion and inclusion,
not only tears,
but smiles.
—
Today,
I leave my heartbeat here.
May those who come to Angel Island in the future
hear this land gently whisper:
Once, people struggled here simply to survive.
And later,
people learned how to live here freely.