Letter

The world lost a great poet. Dressed in the stark solemnity of my formal attire, I was en route to my daily obligations with intentions to later pay my respects at the funeral parlor. During a lecture to my students, I relayed the sad news of poet Kim Nam-jo's departure. Students were looking for a name in the vast sea of literature. But as I mentioned her seminal work, "Winter Sea," a chorus of nods echoed her legacy. And when the tender words, “I've never seen someone as lovely as you,” flowed from my mouth, recognition lit up their eyes. It's an age-old belief that poets find eternity in their verses; in this, Kim Nam-jo will find her immortal haven.

In the bloom of their twenties, my students remind me of a personal anecdote. At that very age, I found myself at the threshold of Kim Nam-jo's dwelling. As I stepped in, a dimly lit room, illuminated solely by the soft glow of candles, greeted me. The serene statue of the Virgin Mary stood sentinel, evoking the serenity of a monastery. In this realm of profound devotion, where prayers flowed like a river, I imagine verses like "Letter" were birthed. She became my silent guardian from that initial meeting, often showering me with prayers. On subsequent visits, she would commend my budding work, and if ever I shyly asked for an autograph, she used to inscribe "Best wishes." It wasn't a nod to my then accomplishments but a beacon for what lay ahead. Such affirmations, especially when battling inner demons of doubt and guilt, engrave themselves onto one's soul. And I realized I wasn't alone; through the verses she penned letters, her silent blessings, Kim Nam-jo had been a balm to countless aching hearts.

In life's ledger, I felt indebted to her and yearned to reciprocate. But, often, I felt like a silent receiver of her poetic epistles, unable to pen a worthy reply. Today, as homage, I immerse myself in her verses once more. To the illustrious and virtuous poet - may the cosmos cradle you in eternal serenity.