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.