Here I Stand

Here I stand within the rising storm,
The earth is bucking beneath the weight of our carelessness
Roots are lifting as trees upturn, laid low by the winds
of hate, and destruction.

Our foundation is shaken, words scrubbed from our cornerstone.
We have never been innocent. We have always been been bloodstained and torn
by circumstance, by lies, and by prejudice.
We have always fought, seeking our end.

And here in the maelstrom of choking dust and the ashes of an empire,
though it burns our eyes and dries our throat, we raise our broken voices.
Through clouded eyes, and hands that once knew revolution,
our hearts are on fire.

We must choose our weapons.

Will we raise a sword?

The keen edge forged in fire, glinting steel which rends flesh from bone
the sight and smell of blood to lay to waste our enemies
who are struck down and tread upon by the machines of war
and who then will the victor be? The dead and living cannot say,
for the dead are gone, and the living mourn, and are numb.

Will we choose the pen?

The ink of immortality scrawled over page after page
of desperate pleas for humility, for humanity.
The poetry and power of language: from them the poison
is drawn which voice the battle cries and mottos of our age.
The pen may order the sword, but but how will words find strength
when facts are stripped of their truths?

Will we choose our feet?

Will we mobilize, marching proudly and in solidarity?
Risking life and limb for what is right, having only one
precious life to give.
We call, we gather, we unify, and our differences divide us again.
And again.

Will we choose the flame?

Sword, Pen, and Action together may carry forth a flame,
Kindle together a torch so bright that the lady of liberty
weeps that we remember her, that we honor her,
here in this time when the gods of liberty and justice are wounded
and gasping for air in the streets as the world watches them die.
Burn from them their bonds, their gags, the prejudice.
What flame we can kindle; what hope can we inspire?

Around the fire we will gather,
Around the fire we will be healed,
With the light of the flame, we will rise.

Here I will stand: with love, with fire.
Sword sharp as the wit necessary to arm ourselves.
With humanity.
With you.