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drooping flowers, blades of grass
and us…
the flowers droop
but refuse to die
from the heat
like tanned fields
subsumed in the struggle
to survive to keep
the flow of transpiration
like the trodden
blades of grass
pushing upward
through the hole of sidewalks
to capture
the cosmic energy source
that fuels them onward
towards the victory
they seek
to be free
like we seek to be
as we continue
to travel the Jubilee road
riddled with imposing holes
and nullifying roadblocks
that cause us to stop
by the roadside
once and a while---
droop and recalculate
our sojourning strategies
to get us to the journey’s end:
in the land
of my father’s pride
for which in war---
he and his father died---
protecting the home of the brave
and the land of the free
which has thus far prohibited me
from true freedom, justice and liberty.
