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60
A CHILD OF FIRE AND TENDERNESS
<p>I carry my father's rage like iron in my chest, and my mother's love like water on my wounds.</p><p>Between the two I walk, torn and burning, a child of fire and tenderness, never whole.</p><p>The earth beneath me does not rest; it trembles with the names I have not yet become, and the thunder of duties pressed into my bones. I search for the face hidden inside my own shadow.</p><p>In my chest lives a question without a shore: is my voyage only to sink in dark waters, or is there a hidden harbor where the stars wait to carve meaning from my restless hands?</p><p>I am a mirror of fierce rivers.</p><p>I feel the fires of joy and sorrow alike each grief carves its initials into my blood, each love is a wound that glows instead of heals.</p><p>Yet when I imagine the grave as a doorway, I see my mother's face turn to stone, her arms collapsing to dust,</p><p>my brothers and sisters swallowed in shadows and my heart chooses to remain, still burning.</p> -Ehi
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