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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I Rise Again by Elvis Otieno Gikoi ArtFromHeart I call upon the mirror, not of glass but of memory, not of reflection but of revelation. I am Otieno, son of Kisii soil. My footsteps echo in ancestral valleys, my voice rises like smoke from sacred fires, my breath carries the weight of drums that once summoned warriors to guard the village gates. I am not a wanderer lost. I am a flame carried through storms, a teacher who sows wisdom in young soil, a poet whose syllables bend the air, a believer whose prayers carve paths through silence. My scars are not wounds. They are verses etched by survival, they are maps guiding me back to myself, they are rivers that remember the mountain even when they flow into the sea. When doubt creeps in like a thief, I remember the rhythm that lives in my veins. I am the keeper of cadence, the sculptor of meaning, the one who turns pain into prophecy. I lift my head. The night may be heavy, but within me burns a lantern fed by love, guarded by resilience, a lantern that refuses to die even when winds howl against its flame. I rise again, poet. I rise again, teacher. I rise again, believer. I rise again, Otieno. And the chant continues within me: The ancestors whisper, We see you, child of ink and chalk. We see you, guardian of fragile souls. We see you, bearer of words that heal. The earth beneath my feet remembers my name, the sky above my head waits for my prayer, the river beside my path hums my song. I rise again, poet. I rise again, teacher. I rise again, believer. I rise again, Otieno. Until the drumbeat fades into dawn, until the chant becomes tomorrow’s hymn, until my story is carved into the bones of time.
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