We are the quiet mutterings of the river that flows from underneath the feet of the Lord. Let us go. Let us cry into the grave of the brother we never kissed and the sister we never held. Who are you to take them away from me? Who are you to take away my sight? My hearing? My touch? My warmth? They are mine. All mine. My love. My faith. My joy. My strength. My hope. My dignity.
I will look at you and break the ego that broke my mother and my father. I will breathe harder, faster, louder - and the world will see fit to listen to our howl for we long for the moon
to forgive and remember the ones lost and forgotten
We are the quiet magnificence of the new turning.