To the plants I downsized,
To the ducks I won’t feed again,
The cats I won’t spot,
And the laundry I forgot.

The small dogs who will never know,
Why I had to leave,
Will haunt me the most,
Along with the ghosts.

Scenes of hopes never realized,
Fears faced and never met
Seas wept, tigers tamed,
And counters stained.

On the years of yearning,
The generations in exile,
The nights gone by
In the belly of the whale

Is escape possible?
Is it desirable?
To yearn is to live.
To strive is to be.

We were marked for this,
A people known by the creator,
Known as the daisies of the field
But invisible till a crucial juncture.