untitled no. 1002

Creator, is your heart not broken for your J*kartans?
You have pursued them and still they have hid their faces.
You hold the answers with an open palm
And your tears continue to puddle for you long to play in the streets with the barefoot, you long to sit a child in your lap to take a ride on the waterslide, you long to reroof the home that flooded.

How long will I have to wait? I am ready today.
I will continue to dream over you while I look lovingly upond you. My creations inspire me.

Come mothers, come fathers, children. You have been degraded enough.
I will sew the patches on your uniform,
I will pay your remaining school fees,
Daughter, throw off your head covering, let me see those beautiful eyelashes I crafted to compliment your dimples.

I hear your labour pains daughter, I am with you.
Do not fret, for your husband is here to hold your hand.
Yes, have more children, you will be fruitful and I will provide.

Rejoice over your newborn, wrap him tightly in your batik.
He is smiling over his redemption.
I have told him of the lies that no longer remain.
He will know fresh water from the sink
He will crave bok-choy and spinach
He will dance in the streets free from garbage and pollution.

Your curiousity will bring the answers
I am in the wind.
Hear my voice J*karta, I am speaking to you. I yearn for you.
I will be here holding your newborns until you are ready for rebirth.