A fresh surge of energy
Amid the city’s rust & decay;
Not just the smiles of the people,
But the art
Of their expansive signatures,
The waves of them!
Though the buildings seem headed for ruin,
The voice that commands the handwriting
Cries out for reconstruction;
The vast variety of their combinations:
Names put up
As votes for a common cause.
Do you hear their pleading call for justice
As a brother?
Or are you another def passerby?
As the many tribes of Native Americans
Resisted oppression & moved west,
I feel compelled to believe
They ensured to leave no tracks behind.
Today’s need to remember moans in pain:
Are these beautifully wild markings
Formed from their once dusted off footprints
Riding the winds of karma as pollen carrying seeds?
Some wonder what will come from them!
The paint on the walls will continue to change,
But the tracks of this railroad
- as they spiral out -
Are one huge signature;
The sounds between the steel & the wood
- perhaps felled by a slave -
Shaking up history,
Forever reminiscent of our ongoing struggle of freedom.