Inauguration Day

You mirrored post 9/11
replay after replay of crashing airliners,
mixed with images world over of flowers
signifying hearts opened in response,
a mix all too soon to morph into dark gray clouds
reflecting closed defensive hearts
and leaders reflecting, amplifying
our nightmarish terrors,
turning us hard, impervious to Light,
preoccupied with winning
what they sold and most seemed to buy
as a war against terror.
Glued to the news, the images reflected what we expected,
excluded what we'd not pay to see.
It wasn't news, maybe not even true,
if it didn't confirm encircling danger and darkness.

Fixated on keeping us safe, our leaders
trampled the very freedom they thought to be defending,
blinded, as all seemed to be, to the goodwill,
to the help other peoples might offer.
Cynicism, enervating fear,
yellow ribbons in support of those doing our fighting
became order of the day.
We had all but forgotten
the full truth of who we are.

But the fiery heat of the Light within was abuilding
to release us overnight
from the imprisoning ice of fear and doubt
as national elections mirrored
a positive new image of neighbors
who were not as we had thought, but just like us.
We were not separate but One!
A collective smile and sigh of relief
blew away clouds countrywide.

Inauguration Day dawned
bright and sunny
with a cold that invigorated
overwhelming overwhelmed tearful joyful masses,
enthusiastic pilgrims drawn to the Capitol
to witness a reminder of their heritage,
from the Founding Fathers to the dream of Martin Luther King,
to stand tall again (or for the first time) as Americans
-- undaunted by living in the toughest of times,
by the necessity of bomb proof limos
and the eyes of ubiquitous secret service men --
drawn to witness in their new leader,
who wouldn't be there but for them
and their countrymen watching on TV,
drawn to witness in their new leader
a reflection of themselves and how far they have come
-- the little old dark lady of one hundred seven waiting,
cocooned for hours in a sleeping bag against the cold,
the young buck eager to join others
to do his part for a better future --
shining white and brown, black, yellow and red
wrapped in buntings of red, white and blue,
united in song:

This land is your land, this land is my land …
My country 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee we sing …
. . . in the dawn's early light, our flag is still there!

People ignited to do their part
to work together toward a country, toward a world,
that works for everyone.

~~ Robert G Blakesley

Boothbay Harbor, ME