Whispers from the Ground

By. Ysamar Peña

I have roots embedded into my skin
Roots that I won’t allow you to wither.
Roots that reach my core with
Memories of the place I breathe
My first cry was heard by the
Fronds that fanned my mother
The sun painted my skin–
The color it should be.
My first step combed the sand
And the palm tree was my shadow
Being showered by the sky was a gift.
I drank the water that fed my roots
The hands that braided my hair taught me
That my age is my university.
My tongue shared a new language,
While learning another.
I belong to the wind that sways
La hamaca. I am tied by a
Thread you can’t cut and my
Veins palpitates to the sound
Of merengue y bachata . I won’t
Stop tasting el dulce de coco.
And I’ll continue to climb
my mother’s fig tree.

My name is Ysamar Peña. I had a diary when I was 7 and I wrote in Spanish so I won’t forget my
native language. I am a Dominican New Yorker who moved across the world 7 months ago. I am
now residing and working in South Korea. Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ysamarpena/ and Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ysamar.pena