There was a time when things felt 

lighter                   

When the world wasn't watching so 

close                                                    

Not perfect, but quieter                      

A country people would flee for 

freedom and safety,                          

Now, a place where hope is all we have

The sunshine and breeze on my face 

Caressing my cheeks and framing 

my hair                                                  

A hopeful glimmer of dancing tree 

branches                                              

My mind breathes in                        

And out                                            

And time slows as I imagine dancing 

in their leaves,                                  

And flowers smell sweetly,                

So sweetly    

In the Before Times                                

I was reading and writing,                    

Indulging in once 

forbidden conversations out in the 

open                                                       

I had found it- my spark

Loss comes in ways unexpected

Like something heavy that is falling

upon us

We carry the weight of stares

and constant fear for our families,

our neighbors, our friends, or for

simply being seen.

And then I sit and stare at the empty 

branches,

Weak and limber,

Taunting me with a vision from the 

past

Reminding me,

Of when I could breathe deep,

And not be afraid to feel my cheeks 

moisten

At least these tears were silent, 

Alone as I sit,

Watch and stare,

Removed and prepared to flee

In the after, my familiar sickness

crept back up

I could not help scanning through

new articles, court decisions, op-eds,

My daily habit,

my need to know what is happening

when it's happening

Still, we preserve, build homes, and

lives with what we can

Holding onto joy in the small

moments

We show up, even if just to stand

near.

We read, we learn, we try not just to

survive, but to protect the ones who

can't protect themselves.

To ease a breath of suffering

Down to the ground of those who no 

longer

Feel the yearn the needs of others

With every step and every gwak of 

the third eye

Down,

Deep into the cavern of all those who lie

Silent and still

Upon waking they shriek

And weep

I need to be a witness

I need to remember the disappeared

I need to track of our place in history

I need to continue to read and write

I need to continue to speak

The future is uncertain, and some

days it's hard to imagine things

getting better, but

Hope is forever present, in the ways

we preserve in the way

We still dream of a world where we

don't just exist, but can belong in

the

places we live and call home. 

~Tunazzina Roza

And from the ground, the tree 

begins 

to grow again

From the cavern,

A crack forms

And year after year,

I nurture,

I watch and remain,

Determined to breathe deeply once 

more

A new breeze of fresh and warmth

I do not want to be quiet and

palatable anymore

I want to be loud and controversial

and celebrated

This is my work, and I suppose it is

political

~Tunazzina Roza

~Kamala Covert

~Angela Ochoa