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  • Writer's pictureLeena J.

Carry


Carry


My love,

when you grow up, I pray

you won't disregard

the rumblings in your soul

voices so low

you may not recognize them

at first.

My darling,

the vibrations may shake

your very core

a most unusual unison of cries

beguiling and terrifying

at the same time

deep and unyielding

stubborn and revealing

resolute in their resonance

of shared histories

and trauma.


My child,

don’t try to quiet them down

they will enfold and surround

you with love but

also with urgency

you will have much yet to learn

to see

those spirits ensconced deep

are restless in their speech

for all they have to share

and teach.

My daughter,

still your mind to listen

steel your heart to strength

when their voices rise

rouse your spirit

lift your eyes

to the gift of the task placed upon you

built on the path cleared before you

to walk alongside

to carry with pride

their stories

their loves

their lives.

We carry them with us

because they are us

as we will also one day

be them.

They call themselves

sisters

mothers

ancestors

aunts

but they are also

heroes

leaders

trailblazers

women.

We stand on their

strong and broken

shoulders.

We lean in

to their songs

their tales

and murmurs.

And we respond

with love and honor,

knit together as

their daughters.

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