To My Daughter

To My Daughter

You may not remember this chapter,

but your body will,

as our ancestors’ bodies remembered.

Water never forgets its form—

and our veins carry their pulse.

To Our Teachers,

May you find strength

shouldering this shared call,

honored by all who know

what it is to stare terror in the face

and reply, Not today.

To the Parents,

We, with no perfect answers,

but hearts that break for our children—

we cry openly,

then rise each dawn,

meet the day with dignity,

and stand tall.

To the Children,

Born into storms and fire,

you come knowing more than we did.

May you keep that spark—

a light that finds courage in kindness,

strength in softness,

and remembers the song we are still learning to sing.

To My Heart,

You feel split in two,

a chasm deep and endless.

Yet love fills that depth,

bit by bit,

as community finds its way to the bottom,

until the emptiness shrinks,

and love overflows—

onto our children,

our teachers,

our families,

our communities.

To the Ancestors,

Who walked so we could stand,

who dreamed so we could strive.

We call on you now—

that your love may flow through us,

carving new rivers

of strength, of healing,

of hope for those who come after.

And then we find—

it beats once more,

in time with our grandmothers’ song.

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