Inspired by Rwandan Refugee Simon Mbonyinshuti.
Your identity stripped away
in a gunshot moment.
Carrying with you only your name.
Clinging to it as you hid in the dark,
under beds, under chairs,
emerging from a tomb,
of silence.
Photos all gone,
memories only remain.
Never forgetting,
what is forgotten.
And yet even then,
Hope.
The word whispered,
Hope.
Generosity unexplained,
Hope.
Your new life built on those four letters.
Claiming back identity, this field in which to plant seeds,
and watch them grow.
