I wonder had I a million dollar to spend
could I buy all the books at author signings
for Charlotte, and Libby, and Tim (when he would print one)
and Naomi, and Sherry, both, and Michael before he died
books of memoir, poetry, human conditions, and murder mystery...with love in the spring.

Had I a billion hours a day
Could I spend them the way I totally see fit
gazing out my window for inspiration and wit
driving aimlessly to the tune of 91.5 up a hill
though I know I should spend more time running to nowhere on some treadmill.

Had I the ability to retain all words
English, French, Chinese, Vietnamese
I would not be so confused when they arrive at random
in my mind, refusing to leave
I would put them into their right places, this one for family, this one for work, this one...mine.

I wonder if Rachel Carson was more than right
that not only the earth's spring is silenced
but also its rain
why there hasn't been a drop of water since last April
why my skin feels so dry, my yard so dead.

I wonder if not only I arrived from Asia
but also the citrus aphids, female and petite like me
I know I'm good for America
although the aphids are not
I had failed by boat, the aphids too, until they soared on wings like me.

I wonder what all I would achieve
with one more life
love more, write more, study and be excellent at everything
from science to literature
dance the ballet, draw, paint, cure diseases, invent a universal language
that unites Vietnamese, French, English, Gujarati, Chinese, Arabic, and music.

But no point sitting here wondering
since I only have one life
limited money, a wit scattered by many languages
a heart too impatient to wait for perfection
I better write, one word at a time,
type, two fingers at a time
until my wondering somewhat coalesces
into sentences, paragraphs or verses,
into books.