I don’t know why
people close their doors,
why silence greets my words
as if they never mattered.
I carry a voice
full of mountains,
full of rivers,
but they turn away,
pretending not to hear.
Maybe they fear
the truth inside my tongue.
Still I will speak,
even if no one listens.
For my words are not only mine —
they belong to my people,
to the earth that remembers.