In Writing

I’ve been thinking a lot about the path of history this week, and the many people who struggled but never got to see the outcome of their work. I was also thinking about all the darkness we face, the tendency to hatred and demagoguery, and how it can all seem that too many people will succumb to that darkness. I was moved, particularly, by Cory Booker’s speech at the 2016 Democratic National Convention and his repeated use of the phrase “we will rise.”

So, this:

Sights are downward cast
And no one hears your cries
And though there yet be darkness
Remember, we will rise.

People do desert you
The hope within you dies
But never must you let let it
Because as yet we rise.

When love’s voice has quieted
And there is no hope in the skies
And all seems lost and lonely
There will still be time to rise.

A seed floats from the heavens
Seen through sad and blurry eyes
Full of lift and magic
And reminds us – we will rise.

Sometimes the path is lonely
Joy much too hard to reprise
But the drum that beats your steps
Still says: rise, rise, rise, rise.


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