The Dream Weavers (Letter To Those Before Us) Poem by Agatha Eliza

Step by step..each at the time, we walk
on your battered path;
our history, our identity and dreams
are like unknown runes, clumsily scratched
on a rain-washed monument. Your name is not
yet forgotten, nor our memory oblivious to your plight.
We are your daughters, so we pick up
the same domestic tools to knitt
our destiny, linking it closer and closer
to yours. Nothing has changed much-
our feet are sturdy, sunken into clay,
but we pull, and pull harder to get all of
us out. Our minds are set to explore and conquer
the territories that were denied to you.
We can cast our votes. Within the confinment of
this citadel of shattered hopes, our pleas
merge into ONE voice. You've shown that dignity
is a woman's precious attire - a diamond
that generates a flickering aura on her portrait for ages to come;
A woman's true worth and courage are
the petrol and match that ablaze the torch for others
to rise up, to revolt, to protest further and follow…
We know..at the crossroads of history, we fill another
page in an ink only few out there can see or read,
lacing words in a language only the heart, and mind can translate.