World builders, and light makers,
and bearers of good news:
little rays splitting open
the body like the day,
time ruptured like a parting.
Workers of the routine wonder,
our unlikely generations unfolding,
the baffled fact of us: still, coaxed
and caught in arms outstretched
to pull forward, to push back.
Hoping towards a better welcome
than our own, towards our bettering
tomorrow by tomorrow.
This bright burden. This work.
These small futures, born
grasping the air with their fists.
By Chimwemwe Undi
Chimwemwe is a poet, editor, and lawyer living and writing on Treaty 1 in Winnipeg, Canada. Her work has appeared in Brick, Border Crossings and BBC World, among others.
When speaking about the poem and her inspiration behind it, she said she was “moved by the connection between the work of people who give birth, the people who support them, and movement organisations like ICM, which work to ensure the next generation is born into a better world.”
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