It is time. The tocsin clangs and I wonder if we will answer. Will we Rise for those who cannot stand, Speak for those unable to speak, Shout for those too frightened to be noticed? Will we Beseech, cajole, beg for the destitute, Chastise the greedy, Kneel for the abandoned child? Will we Offer comfort for the homeless, And solace to the fearful? Will we Help lift downcast eyes riveted Motionless in the shadows By power that yearns for the past? Will we be passionate? Will we be decent? Will we be true? It is time. And for this, I do not wonder: There, but for the grace of God, Go us all.