America (Flying High Above)

January 8, 2018

 

America, I fly high above your earth and looking down see the aspirations you hold. And still I feel inside me the anxieties coursing through your veins, your fastidious application of the law, the desires behind your fear to connect with yourself. I hope you can begin to see the humanity of those you purport to represent, and that your systems of justice mean nothing until they do.

A little satisfaction for that brother on the street, looking for nothing other than an opportunity to participate in your narrative, or at least a value meal to quench his appetite. A reliable journey to the woman in the chair trying to flag down the bus driver as he rolls past her stop without concern.

A moment to catch their breath and feel the heart beating inside for those in pursuit of a piece of the American pie. And a sense of belonging to that dreamer chasing her elusive future in a land that offers with one hand while taking away with the other.

America, take a moment and look inside. Your sickness has no other cure, and your potential no other means than to grow up and throw off the chains with which you bind yourself. I wonder of the next time I look down from this sky, if the clouds will grow more dark, or will they begin to disperse. (11.10.17) #america #dream #prose #poetry#writing #socialjustice

 

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