On the day a bully takes office,
the rivers roar out a lamentation,
and the sky sheds frozen tears.
Even the marble statues weep.
In graves that the earth
had finally folded into healing arms,
the ghosts of slaves stir
from too short a rest.
But on the day the women march,
parchment rustles in glass cases.
We the people
Are created equal
Molecules vibrate faded ink into quivering.
The pursuit of happiness
On the day the women put on the armor of light
and march into the streets across the land,
on the day we claim our right
peaceably to assemble
and remind the bully
Congress shall make no law respecting
an establishment of religion,
or prohibiting the free exercise thereof;
or abridging the freedom of speech,
or of the press,
the lady in the harbor will lift her torch.
On the day the women resist hate
because we are all created equal,
no matter our
or sexual orientation,
the earth will answer our stomping feet with jubilation.
On the day the women demand
care for the planet,
health and safety for our brothers and sisters,
we will wake the country from its Trump-induced trance
and across this hazy land the wind will blow;
on that day the words in the National Archives will dance.
We the people do ordain it so.
Words in italics from our Charters of Freedom: the Declaration of Independence, the United States Constitution, and the Bill of Rights. Image of United States Constitution courtesy of Jonathan Thorne through a Creative Commons non-commercial license.