Now that the election has been called…

Subtitle: On the occasion of the declaration of Joseph Robinette Biden, Jr. as the President-elect

Sub-subtitle: Maybe, just maybe…


The election has been called what?

In a nation divided,
the epithet employed
and the spirit in which it is uttered,
whether with a shout of celebration or a cry of lamentation,
depends on where and with whom one stands.

There are those who call it “a victory” and “a vindication of democracy.”
There are those who call it “thievery” and “bankrupt of integrity.”

As each point of view is true
given where and with whom one stands,
all we need heed the prophets of old;
they who decried the false sound of “Peace! Peace!”
when there was no peace.
And there is no peace, not today in this American land.

Thus, all need care and more than ever before
for the sister or brother who stands faraway.
For there are no winners when people,
with hearts broken
and tears shed
and lips curled in anger’s curses,
suffer the denial of their dreams.

Tho’ maybe, just maybe,
in this day and time,
as the olden poet scripted, of “strife closed in the sod,”
we, each and all, anew may discover a new opportunity
to marry our pain with that of all others, every other.

That we –
whether by
race or gender,
sexual identity,
creed or culture,
physical ability or disability,
political positioning right to left,
social standing up to down,
material prosperity or poverty –
one way or another,
well-know history’s unfair fetters,
might identify with the sorrows of others,
every last other,
and, thus,
loosen our clinchéd fists
and hold out, one to another, every other, open hands.

Maybe, just maybe…

© 2020 PRA

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