In the hush before dawn

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In the hush before dawn

By Ayo Arannilewa

In the hush before dawn,
when the sky still carries the weight of night,
a mothers prayer rises with the wind,
searching roads she cannot walk,
calling names she cannot stop whispering.

Somewhere beyond the reach of home,
children remember the sound of laughter,
the warmth of familiar hands,
the classrooms, the songs, the ordinary days
that now shine like distant stars.

The earth knows their footsteps.
The rivers remember their reflections.
The trees stand witness, silent and waiting,
holding hope in every leaf
for the day they return.

We grieve for the fear they have endured,
for the empty chairs and unanswered calls,
for the nights stretched thin by worry,
for every family carrying a wound
that words alone cannot heal.

Yet hope remains stubborn.
It survives in every candle lit at dusk,
in every prayer spoken through tears,
in every voice that refuses to forget,
in every heart that keeps watch.

May the lost find their way home.
May the frightened find comfort.
May the separated be reunited.
And may a future come
where no child is taken from their dreams,
and no family must wait in sorrow again.

Until then,
we carry their names with love,
their stories with dignity,
and their hope with unwavering faith.

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