The silence of a thousand years
is broken with a whisper,
emanating from
the heartbeat of oppression.
Time can no longer restrain truth.
It breaks open sins of the past.
Soaring above the rabble,
chains falling off,
secrets bleed out.
Blackened bones of our ancestors
crumble in desperation.
It is my turn to speak.
My words are winter rain.
Bare limbs reaching from the pyre,
their cries can no longer
be buried alive with their bodies.
Blue songs and green desires
melt away in an inferno.
Annealed, weak become strong.
Pained voices unite,
shedding off their shroud,
never more to be silenced.
Header photograph © Caroline Bardwell.
Ann Christine Tabaka has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize in Poetry, has been internationally published, and won poetry awards from numerous publications. She lives in Delaware, USA. She loves gardening and cooking. Chris lives with her husband and three cats. Her most recent credits are: Pomona Valley Review; Ariel Chart, Page & Spine, West Texas Literary Review, Oddball Magazine, The Paragon Journal, The Stray Branch, Trigger Fish Critical Review, Foliate Oak Review, Better Than Starbucks!, Anapest Journal, Mused, Apricity Magazine, The Write Launch, The Stray Branch, Scryptic Magazine, Ann Arbor Review, The McKinley Review.
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