American Progress, painting by John Gast, 2017.
In reaction of judge Ruth Ginsburg death, I wrote a poem, which I am sharing with you below. I am worried for what happens in our politics. I want peace, progress and a better future. This is what we are known for, we are a country of open minded, kind people that care about each other. People that came here to escape religious persecution (that doesn’t mean that you cannot be any religion you choose!), founders of this land who came here with their dreams, California’s gold diggers who came here to change their lives, immigrants who came on ships to follow their American Dream, ALL came here for a better life, for equal opportunities. This is who we are, this is what makes us different from other parts of the world, where you cannot speak your mind or where you have cast systems that will prevent you from achieving your potential, because you’re not born into it.
America means progress. America means equality. America means fairness and equal opportunity. America means freedom. America means gender equality. American means us, all of us.
And here is the story I wrote, it’s the story of our founding mothers and fathers. And that, unless your are a native American, lives in all of us.
She, born in the land of sewed mouths,
And tall fences,
Made it to the shore.
She touched her wings,
Bruised in her erratic flight
To escape to freedom.
Guardians of the new land came and took her,
Some had assuming eyes and asked about her journey.
She looked up at the eagle flying in the sky,
She didn’t have a map to show her journey of yesterday,
But just like the eagle flight, high and free,
Her dreams and hopes were fearlessly flowing through her veins,
Holding promises of a shinier, better tomorrow.
She took the cotton rag strapped across her chest,
And kissed the picture of another
Compressed in charcoal.
She folded its burned edges,
Still smelling like her mom’s cooking,
And stud up,
Until the guards let her follow the music,
Of the valleys and mountains of this newfound land.
The memory of her first step joined others,
Next to big and small footprints.
The dirt road looked like an eternal mosaic jigsaw puzzle,
With different colors.
She smiled as her mark added more meaning,
To its one big, and still in progress story.
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My new poetry book “Love poems: insights into the complicated mystery of love” is available on Amazon. You can get it here. Please write a review if you get around it. I would really appreciate it.