Pulled by gravity to these streets
Where everything on this continent belongs to god
May I do justice, immigrant ancestor
May I be your sacrifice, Uncle
Although not everyone believes theologically in collective sin
Do I hear a confession?
My friend turns to me:
I wore the wrong t-shirt today
But I am in the same skin as yesterday
So I wear my protest in life daily.
As I march,
Reflecting on the trail of tears
Sounding the cadence of slogans
That are tied to the holy
“This is what democracy looks like”
Who is your neighbor?
“Education not fear,
Amnesty is welcome here”
Separating families inhumane
Leadership inconsistent with our values
Policies that poke a stick
In the bee hive of foreign affairs
Plaguing the plane with a virus
Giving rise to cowards who run and hide.
Immortalized by someone adorning purple
This way has come
We are gathered here today,
To get through this thing called life; Who Wha!