though I stand surrounded
by love and by kindness
I find myself dislodged
from your histories
left without connection to our past
left to wander without a history
scrounging for something to attest
to my existence without mystery
I am not a lone anymore
though my soul is filled with sonder
for what I yearn to explore
that lies amongst the days of yore
I yearn for the mother I never had
and so I walk the steps for those left behind
to craft and shape our own flesh
into a vessel as divine as the amphora
to turn the wheel of transition’s crush
is to tie yourself to the enanthema
one that has outlived every empire
as weavers of our own destiny
we lie in the shades, endeavouring for more
the chance to forge our unbounded way
living in spite of oppression beyond recognition
we carve out an intricate oasis
to pass on the forces of our cognition
stories that last generations
I would not be here if not for those
who fought for my chance to prose
how do I even begin, to write about you
to write a story, in search of a truth and reconciliation
one that moves hearts to and fro
and gives us the moment of recognition
in honour of those whose lives have been lost
taken from us before their time
to know they were never given their moment
it breaks this jaded heart of mine
in honour of you, who gave yourselves
away, in hope of a better future
for me, and those of us who find ourselves
pushing the world for more than a suture
I hold in my heart a deep and everlasting love
that contorts me into an unholy beast, liberation’s dove