Whenever I’m at an ocean, There is a quiet stillness I savor.

In the crash of the waves, I watch listen breathe.

And do I hear the call from the ocean Because I’m Californian?

I’ll never truly know, But maybe the ancestral footsteps Will tell me.

From Singaporean mother and Hong Kong educated father — with roots in Hainan and Guangzhou — It seems I was not the only one Yearning for an ocean.

Though I get seasick from boats I thrive in the disorientation.

Traveling to foreign yet familiar lands, Adapting through turbulence and mother tongue, Remembering who I am, When my passport tells an incomplete story.

Have we all just been salmon swimming upstream, In search of home?

When I trace these roots now, I laugh because It all makes sense. Even in Shanghai, I knew I felt an affinity for the river When I chose to live by 苏州河 (Suzhou River)。

Diasporic child that I am: I am 江 as in river as in 长江 (Yangtze River) as in There will always be a river Flowing within me.

There is an ocean calling, Always calling, And therein Lies my roots.