We stand on the brink of destiny, the edge of dreams
Looking into the horizon of hope. A new day dawns and we awaken
To the sound of laughter, promise, joy, change. A pleasing sound to the ear.
The flag rustles in the morning breeze. Winds that blew for decades across our land,
Across the cornfields, over the hilltops, on the lakes, over our cities and now on our faces.
This new air that wafts in the morning’s light is fresh, new, vibrant.
The child waves at the man standing in the midst.
Him, the present, a product of the past looks at the face of the future
Smiling back at him. His face, living legend of our times, is friendly yet firm.
A new day.
She holds her hand to her heart anxiously. He bows his head in prayer.
They look out across the stage. The plaza throbs with the rhythm of a million bodies.
A million voices rise in the wind, their chants long and loud.
Let our story never forget those who laid life and breath down for this hour.
Write in tablets of stone the message given to us by the many Kings, Parks,
Lincolns and Washingtons of the past. Give thanks for live lost and liberty gained.
The doors of the mosque swing open. Light floods through the window of the cathedral.
A new sound echoes in the temple. The walls of the synagogue feel light to the touch.
Prayers offered up to God, with different names in different ways. Yet, the outcome is the same.
A new day.
Here we stand on the edge of dreams, the brink of destiny. Our path before us is unknown
Yet we eagerly peer off into the distance seeing things to come.
Forward, onward we go. Up into the light.
A fireworks display fit for a celebration. A song fit for a king, sung by different voices.
In the air around us breathes life, hope, laughter, joy, change.
The blood that courses through our veins warms us to this new promise.
Struggles won, fights subdued, issues made aware, differences made small.
Hate made into love, sorrow into smiles, unrest civil into peace.
A land reborn, a people empowered, a nation renewed are we. Here we stand this day.
A new day.
* piece written for creative writing: fiction class. assignment: personal work based upon interpretation of and influenced by Elizabeth Alexander’s literary style of President Obama’s Inaugural Poem
