"I lost my voice; you lost your mind."
The drums of war have echoed through the wires today. I've seen it packed to the very brim of my Twitter feed and clogged among the posts of my Facebook friends. I've seen hatred; I've seen cruelty. I've seen offensive attacks on my beliefs as well as the beliefs of others.
The drums of war have echoed. The people of the United States have spoken, have screamed, to stand up against each other, to stand on opposite ends of our land of liberty and launch the bitter grenades of animosity. The people of the United States of America have become enemies today. Today, America is at war with herself.
However, through the smoke and rubble of all of those screams of hatred and of contempt, there is a voice. A small, meager voice that begs to be heard. A voice of peace, of reason, and of compromise. It is there. The solutions to our problems, the possibility of a future sewn together, not estranged, it is all right there, buried in the shrapnel we've launched at one another. But we must quiet the volume of our own voices to hear it.
We must stop talking over one another, stop pounding our drums and, each time we're disagreed with, screeching our own thoughts louder so as to be heard. We must learn again how to whisper. We must part with our howls and snarls; we must gently pause our voice and widen our ears, our hearts.
Listen. In the quiet and the stillness, can you hear it? Without the raging growl of hatred and war, do you glean just a sliver of sound? That's hope. That brief, hoarse note is the idea the people have abandoned. The one forgotten in the midst of our destruction. We left it behind: hope. But still it cries, still it asks to be heard. We simply must lower our own noise to hear it.
As We the People, in order to form a more perfect union, have been slinging stones, beating each other with Bibles, ballots, and health-care reform, hope has been shouting for peace. We screamed over it. We mounted our steeds, each higher than the last, and pulled our swords from their scabbards. And as America lost her mind in pools all colors of hatred, hope's voice began to fade, hoarse and raw, from our visions.
Now is not the time to declare war on each other. Today is not the time to launch our grenades or beat our drums. It is the time to hear each other, the time to dig beneath the rubble for hope. Each voice is important; each voice can be heard, but we must hear each other as we speak. We must approach each day with respect for our fellow human beings.
We the People, in order to form a more perfect union, must be ONE nation, must find compromise, must find equality, and liberty, and love. To do this, to come together in peace, we must each pick up a shovel, and hand-in-hand, exume hope.
The drums of war have echoed. The people of the United States have spoken, have screamed, to stand up against each other, to stand on opposite ends of our land of liberty and launch the bitter grenades of animosity. The people of the United States of America have become enemies today. Today, America is at war with herself.
However, through the smoke and rubble of all of those screams of hatred and of contempt, there is a voice. A small, meager voice that begs to be heard. A voice of peace, of reason, and of compromise. It is there. The solutions to our problems, the possibility of a future sewn together, not estranged, it is all right there, buried in the shrapnel we've launched at one another. But we must quiet the volume of our own voices to hear it.
We must stop talking over one another, stop pounding our drums and, each time we're disagreed with, screeching our own thoughts louder so as to be heard. We must learn again how to whisper. We must part with our howls and snarls; we must gently pause our voice and widen our ears, our hearts.
Listen. In the quiet and the stillness, can you hear it? Without the raging growl of hatred and war, do you glean just a sliver of sound? That's hope. That brief, hoarse note is the idea the people have abandoned. The one forgotten in the midst of our destruction. We left it behind: hope. But still it cries, still it asks to be heard. We simply must lower our own noise to hear it.
As We the People, in order to form a more perfect union, have been slinging stones, beating each other with Bibles, ballots, and health-care reform, hope has been shouting for peace. We screamed over it. We mounted our steeds, each higher than the last, and pulled our swords from their scabbards. And as America lost her mind in pools all colors of hatred, hope's voice began to fade, hoarse and raw, from our visions.
Now is not the time to declare war on each other. Today is not the time to launch our grenades or beat our drums. It is the time to hear each other, the time to dig beneath the rubble for hope. Each voice is important; each voice can be heard, but we must hear each other as we speak. We must approach each day with respect for our fellow human beings.
We the People, in order to form a more perfect union, must be ONE nation, must find compromise, must find equality, and liberty, and love. To do this, to come together in peace, we must each pick up a shovel, and hand-in-hand, exume hope.
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