Bryan Thao Worra

Maybe one day,
A page will be found,
A song will be heard,
A stroke will be drawn
Filled with explanations.

Maybe one day,
The nuckawi and silapin, beautiful as a field of khao mai
Will be vindicated.

A family will start.

A child will learn the names of a stranger who believed in them
Before they even met.

Maybe one day,
A heart will remember a brother, a sister, a crime, a moment of love,
A chronicle of a city, a haiku from Japan.
A teacher.
A friend on the other side of your eye.

Until then, what is certain?
Night arrives, then day. The moon, the sun, the rain and waves.
A few other things, maybe something someone will write down.
Maybe not.