Jericho

 

Let them come. Let them march around

our home. But this time we are the ones inside, on the

verge of terror. Instead of love and

elation,

 

these trumpets sound with hate –

ripping every shred of safety from our bones. They cannot

understand. They cannot see the

millions who are hidden behind the paper wall, their futures

pinned up – target practice for these

soldiers of

 

hate. They can’t see what we can:

A people

torn by difference and discomfort. A wall, crashing down for all the wrong reasons.

Ears turned to those ever-frightening trumpets, because they grow louder each day.

-

It’s a barren landscape – our country

shifting leaders, shifting beliefs, shifting loyalty. But we rise

 

lifting our voices to drown out the sound

of a crumbling safety net. We sing the

vicarious song of hope, and we lean on

each other. Because there is no one else.

            still, we rise.