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Home » Poetry » Issue 2 » Lift the Veil

Lift the Veil

The dry seasons of my homeland
are over, let’s love: in plains, in hills,
let’s gather all troubled souls—
the child guardians in trees
tell them to descend now

And dance to the tune
of new village drums. Green leaves
grin in the sun, which winces
and courts the moon;
the stars shall dance too, tonight.

The season of rain has come
the rumble of the sky awakens
joy in some, fear in others. New life
to mothers and fathers
who now troop to the fields
their farm tools raised like shields.

Let’s gather now
on the foothills of Chisiya
and chorus a tune with the rain
and muscle up for the new dance
in the village arena, receiving
the new season, a new breath
of a people once suffocating
so they can declare:
we can breathe again now.