Some kneel when the anthem plays
some shed tears when the spirit displays
its unmistakable art-- indelible impressions
when the humanity within rises to the skin
and we sense all--
even the motes and specks in the airs above us
The teenage boy faces his last vision of life
a smoking gun and blue steely eyes, that see a monster
where God put a precious child
so I kneel-- not because of the song
or the honor of heroes long gone
kneeling because i cannot stand
my thoughts are unstrung, count nine when I feel
the hard concrete of Missouri Streets
and seventeen on the ragged pavement of Chicago-- on and on
choked like the breath-less moments struggle in NYC
or the little Cleveland boy in the park with the toy
There is a little feeling, a small sting
that swells like volcano fire... yet I know
for all of its enormity, it is the way justice speaks:
in a small voice and at an unexpected moment-- it is
a pinprick for the heart of the heart.
