Silent Miracle

I write for you,
Oh forgotten gender,
Silent miracle,
One who travels with dust and fog.

I write for you,
With the sound of voicelessness
And screams of silence.

For you who mourns in pain and in waiting.
For you,
Mother,
Sister,
One who was made like me,
A woman who broke in silence and melancholy
Your voice shook the geography of the world
Yet no one listened.

This is an age-old story
Of an oppressive society.

Come with me
And give me your hands
So we may become each other’s wings,
Each other’s voice,
Each other’s friends,
Each other’s calm,
Each other’s storm,
Each other’s screams.

We must become one voice and one mouth
For the eyes and mouths that are imprisoned.
With lips shut together,
With noses cut off,
With hands marked with blisters,
With feet covered with cotton
We must continue walking forward
Slowly but persistently
So that we will be free.

Come with me,
For if we don’t, no one will
Open the small windows that face hope.

Come with me,
Together we will walk towards light and blessings.
Oh friend,
Oh companion,
One who is made like me.

—