We devote to the cause of our happiness and healing.
In the name of our ancestors, the magic makers whose blood flows through our veins eternally.
A great people who prayed for us in a language so beautiful English would bow.
The heroes who gifted us both their pain and power.
In the name of the saints, the ones who cheered with screaming eyes as we unwound the clouds of heaven.
In the name of every survivor.
In the name of those who know we tried, those who helped us feign strength until it was inked in our bones.
The bones are coming alive.
God has risen.
We speak from a place of abundance.
Go and tell them the famine is over.
Dedicated to the resilient spirit of my dearest Jacob, a friend who sticks closer than a brother, a comrade in the (necessary) war against sadness.