Even the sun
has difficulty rising
above the cold clouds.
We gather our strength
like warm blankets against hate.
Soon to be knocked down.
While the world watches,
holding our breaths in its hands,
we wonder and weep.
The past, not prologue
but warning, of what’s to come,
shouts out its last gasp.
This, this too, shall pass.
Spring tumbles frozen hatred,
melts evil away.
Rise up, Sun, and shine.
Rise up sisters and brothers of mine.
It is time. It is time.
Now, hear the alarm.
It is past time to awake.
No need to tremble nor shake.
Gather the courage our many blessings have built.
and renew rights once promised,
now eager to be fulfilled.
annarino writes 