Is it the songs of the ancients, the words of the prophets
the echoes of angels that sound in our heads?
Or perhaps it’s a whisper, the tone of our own voice
the cry of our own thoughts that we hear instead.
Yet where does it rise from, this new intonation
as we meditate on just how far we’ve come:
the escape from repression, affirmation of valor
a reclamation of spirit; what we’ve overcome.
Unless you’ve known pain, then peace has no meaning.
Without all the trials, there’s no victory.
We open this page to newfound validation;
and thus reaffirming, we’ll write history.
A song or a whisper, change begins slowly,
we are the builders, we carry the stones.
We rise from the ashes, creating new bridges:
with faith and forbearance, unrattled persistence,
and righteous resistance, we’re never alone.
© Ginny Brannan 2021