Ark of the Lost Angels

White House at Night _{(Credit: Author)}

Originally written July 4th, 2020.

The rockets burst in air,
Scattering red, white, and blue in pretty patterns.
This year, I’m more inclined to ask, “What’s going on?”
Than to be the man on the line waving that flag.

It’s harder and harder to be proud of the land of the free,
Looking at all the fissures in its visage. 
I see a battle that goes uphill both ways. Is it worth it?
I’ve got some of those US Blues these days.

But then I listen to the words that founded us. 
I listen to empathetic people reaching to restore honor to the land,
I listen to the people demanding change because they want to fulfill our promise.
It gives the one thing stronger than hatred: hope.

There will be time again for summertime barbecues,
For parades and firework displays celebrating our history,
Where there are seats at the table for everyone who wishes to join,
And more than enough food to feed all of them.

In the meantime, let’s take the spirit of our ancestors and run with it,
Hammering the values we desire to fit the words of our founding fathers,
Making America honest about its promises made in a different world.
Let’s let everyone pursue life, liberty, and happiness. 

Let’s shine up the golden door, prop it open,
And make sure the lantern next to it is filled with oil and stays lit. 
There are ideals we hold dear that we have never met,
But today is a new day for all of us, so let’s go meet them.