Contributed by Dorothy Joy Dunne
Part One:
Your allies stand beside you, they’re low hanging fruit.
When you don’t have much ammunition, they’re the easiest to shoot.
Some thought the smooth skin meant the wound was healed
but when you pulled off the scab, the infection was revealed.
Now pus is flowing freely. It’s a systemic disease.
All throughout the country, there’s a sense of unease.
Brother against sister, it’s a sign of the times.
The only way we can fix it is to stand in serried lines.
Putting a new person in office won’t fix this stuff.
When you’re scrambling at the bottom, life is rough.
People are angry. People are sad.
Express an opinion and it makes them mad.
This system does everything to keep us apart.
The only way to fix this is heart to heart.
Your chocolate skin is beautiful to me.
Your café aux lait is lovely to see.
Our milk-colored shell is also a delight.
We won’t get anywhere if this causes us to fight.
We’re all human beings on this tiny little globe.
Do you want to tear it apart to put a rock in someone’s lobe?
The problems really aren’t with her and her and him and him.
The changes we need to make are in the bigger system.
Part Two:
I’ve stumbled out of my cave blinking in the bright light,
Fragile skin bruising with every bump and slight.
I see others up ahead milling about.
I stumble on the path, and they turn and shout.
“What are you doing here? You’re not one of us!”
“Where did you come from? Get back on the bus!”
“You can only join us if you’re one of our kind.”
“You don’t look the same.” “Are you out of your mind?”
I’m frightened, I’m scared, but I know this is the path.
I keep walking forward, bringing down wrath.
My foot hits a rock, and I trip, start to fall.
Some of them laugh, some smirk, but not all.
One hand reaches out to keep my foot steady.
They say, “I’ll walk with you, as soon as you’re ready.”
Others join us, though the way is uphill.
It’s a rocky road, but we keep moving still.
Every so often, I must take a rest.
Looking down at the fray, we hope for the best.
Up on the mountain, closer to the sun
We find the Source where all streams have begun.
We look out towards the land of which we’re so fond.
And see that after the night, a new day has dawned.
Dorothy Joy Dunne
April 8, 2021