(- voice of Esq. Kyung-ho Kim)

I call the names of those who rose—
from furrows, from hunger, from the dust of the earth—
the people who learned that a human being is heaven
and stood upright with that sky in their chests.

I call Suun,
who split the world with one sentence
and made the lowly tall.

I call the farmers of 1894,
burning the chains,
lifting bamboo spears like lightning,
walking into the iron storm
with nothing but equality for armor.

I call Ugeumchi—
the great falling,
the red field,
the thunder of thirty thousand souls
whose breath rose again
in 3·1,
in 4·19,
in 5·18,
in the candles that lit the night,
in every cry that says
the people are the root of the nation.

I call the forgotten ones,
the mislabeled ones,
the descendants who carried shame
that was never theirs.

I call the reckoning—
the day the nation will say:
We remember you.
We honor you.
We rise because you rose.

동학 is not past.
동학 is the fire under our Constitution,
the sky inside our breath,
the thunder still walking the land.