Venny Soldan-Brofeldt

Artist, sculptor, and jewelry designer.

[Unknown]

How can I prove my existence,
when my name is absent from official documents,
replaced by foreign characters,
when they urge assimilation?

How can I prove my existence,
when the map crumbles,
bricks collapse,
and I run to the edge of this Earth, where lost children gather and play,
bound by unspoken laws of being?

How can I reveal my grandmother's essence, with her braids, tinted with titian red and silvered by time,
her thick Latakia accent,
and the embrace of her olive trees?

How can I prove my existence when they distort my name,
reshape my eyes,
erasing the familiarity of home where doves soared,
jasmine scented the air,
and my name held meaning?

Yet, I've complied, signed papers, posed for passports, celebrated with other displaced souls

I've chosen to tread unfamiliar waters, leaving an unnamed child behind

How do I prove her existence, when the bridge between here and there lies shattered?
She, too, ventures to the Earth's edge, where lost children gather and play, while her mother beckons her home

"It will soon grow dark, my love"
"Mama, just a few more minutes, please"

How can I prove this existence when they fragment me, blur my past, and wrench my roots?

when she remains absent,
when she never returns

Identity, displacement, and the struggle for recognition.

Evocative imagery and introspective questioning, the complexities of proving one’s existence amidst assimilation and erasure.

Distorted names, lost connections, and shattered bridges, the essence of familial ties and ancestral heritage.

This is a poem composed of lyrical verses, longing for validation and the enduring quest for belonging.

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