Sunrise quiet
hiking through
the dropping blush of autumn
the morning after election day
inside the trails of forested
trees that were not allowed
a vote
coming upon a canyon
splitting
the un-United States
down the spine
pondering the illusion
of human separation
We reach down and *****
a bridge
sweeping
over the chasm
Next,
we tie a rope swing
to the oak branches above
and unmoor the canoes
from the cedar docks below
Americans stand on
each side,
holding up
similar signs
clear in
truth and oneness
our shared desires
and basic needs
The signs
reading;
Freedom
Safety
Health
Respect
Home
Work
Joy
&
repeating grandly,
over
and over;
******
Love.
Slowly,
as the drops
of dew transform
to puddles
and the sun
lifts to crown
us all in lemon light
we raise up
our shovels
and begin
the work of
filling in the
imaginary
canyon
That once
suffered
divide.
Nov 4, 2020
Nov 4, 2020 at 11:57 AM UTC
Sunrise quiet
hiking through
the dropping blush of autumn
the morning after election day
inside the trails of forested
trees that were not allowed
a vote
coming upon a canyon
splitting
the un-United States
down the spine
pondering the illusion
of human separation
We reach down and *****
a bridge
sweeping
over the chasm
Next,
we tie a rope swing
to the oak branches above
and unmoor the canoes
from the cedar docks below
Americans stand on
each side,
holding up
similar signs
clear in
truth and oneness
our shared desires
and basic needs
The signs
reading;
Freedom
Safety
Health
Respect
Home
Work
Joy
&
repeating grandly,
over
and over;
******
Love.
Slowly,
as the drops
of dew transform
to puddles
and the sun
lifts to crown
us all in lemon light
we raise up
our shovels
and begin
the work of
filling in the
imaginary
canyon
That once
suffered
divide.
A poem written
on an edgy morning after the 2020 presidential elections.
Walking in the woods,
while trying to make sense of
the times we find ourselves in.
Aware of the many glowing
window lights & street lamps
shining through the darkness.
