Our mind-crows squawking endlessly and mean,
their language sharp and rasping in the night.Sing louder, hope and joy! And love between!
The journey’s for our hearts to hold the light.
“What did I see to be except myself?”
One poet asking, answers with her pain.
Took their hate and put it on the shelf.
Celebrate her ‘Me’ today, again!
Lucille, so alive! Show us the way
to wear your wisdom, celebrate that hour
when peace and understanding frame our day!
We walk your bridge, and walk to feel your power.
What did she see to be? And you? And me?
The battles to become ourselves. You see?
