Bridge Poem by Cheryl L. DaytecYañgot

You want to buy my necklace?
This comes from a far, far away place
It has intently traveled through time
From beyond memory can fathom
On narrow pathways, on cemented roads
Hunger cannot force my hands to sell
Even if I must eat dust

These colorful stones and beads
The dirty white animal bones
Look beyond, deep into them
This is not just some necklace
It is the happiness of the past
The sorrows of broken hearts
The hopes of a generation
For another one after it withers
The many cindered dreams
Of people cruelly betrayed by fate
Their enduring hope for mortality
Amid the blast of guns and cannons
Shattering their tranquility
Threatening their existence

This is the struggle of my ancestors
For the survival of their genes
And their beautiful history interrupted
But never vanquished by oppression

Their dream has become my dream
Their struggle has become my struggle

This necklace is my bridge to the past
It is my fragile link to the future

Struggle has no price
Even if I must eat dust.