Nguyen Bao Nhu Quynh

When Dead Birds See the Light was actually born from a deeply personal journey rather than a deliberate plan. The poems came together in a non-linear way — some were written years ago and set aside with no clear intention of what they would become. The catalyst for my book came completely unexpectedly, after I woke from a vivid dream about a dead bird. That image stayed with me, almost haunted me, and I wrote the poem Dead Bird immediately upon waking. From that moment, the collection began to take shape, over the course of only a few days.

For me, poetry is less about sitting down and trying to create something, and more about being a conduit of words and visions — finding the right language to capture and convey feelings and awakenings as they arise. Through this poetry collection, I want to offer readers a quiet space to practice vulnerability and courage, to be open to giving and receiving love in all its imperfect forms. In a world that often treats love as something transactional — as a give-and-take — I wanted to offer a different view: that love is give and give.

The biggest challenge I faced during the writing of this work was internal: confronting my own "shadows" about love and human relationships, my resistance, perfectionism, and fear of vulnerability. I had to work through doubts about worthiness, misguided ideas about happiness and fulfillment, and ultimately find the courage to simply “get something out” — to write honestly, without controlling how it would be received.

I also fell in love with someone, truly, madly, and deeply, and I think that was a big part of the why behind the book. The proudest moment for me wasn’t a grand milestone but something quiet and internal: realizing that I had crossed to “the other side” of this journey. Holding the book in my hands was a moment of peace — proof that I had honored both the chaos and the calm that love can bring.