Written By: Krysada stairway to my heart my earth seeded by sapphire scent of diesel and dirt mixed with Mekong mist I walk up Wat Chomkao Manilat stands at the summit among clouds one step one memory ascending another few steps missing I do not remember much at age 2 molded more steps age 17 sculpt scores more age 27 I may never finish the stairway swirls a bent lance when the last step plants I can dance Tehvada witness the sapphire cypher
Your body tells a story of tradition Fingerprints a map of your peoples’ past Wrinkled palms show the mountains and valleys that surrounded your great grandmother’s village Hair a waterfall down your back, pouring life like those in your mother’s land Holder of history. Hope in true form. Every mole a marking serving as reminders that you are made of generations of magic. You are sacred. You are your ancestors embodied. All parts of you passed down from predecessors Living proof that they survived. This is how your being is never ending. This is how you know you are infinite.