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Posts Tagged ‘protest’

As We Marched

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , on March 29, 2026| 12 Comments »


 
 
I imagined every step a step toward integrity, 
toward justice. Toward language that respects
diversity. Every step a step toward equality. Truth. 
I imagined every step one step closer to peace 
in our country, toward peace in the world. 
I am old enough to not believe in arrivals, 
I am fool enough to believe in love. 
I am human enough to believe in community. 
I am scientist enough to know we need each other. 
Perhaps some part of me wondered what good it did 
for a few hundred people in a remote mountain town 
to walk together a few blocks, chanting, then walk 
back to the courthouse again, but tonight, in my body,
I feel it, the trust in humanity that rises when I think
of how we gathered and drummed and believed
in what our country can be. My heart beats 
a new rhythm in time with belonging.
“This is what democracy looks like.” 
Tonight, after we’ve all gone home, 
I know we’re all still marching. 

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Vigil

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , on February 17, 2026| 16 Comments »

In the growing dark we stood on the courthouse steps
with our candles lit and our voices soft and we sang,
Hold on, hold on, my dear ones, here comes the dawn.
And as we sang, someone read the names of those who died
in the custody of ICE or were killed by ICE. Tien Xuan Phan.
Isidro Perez. Johnny Noviello. Jesus Molina-Veya. We sang
and in the crowd someone raised high a sign with the name
of each person handwritten in silver. Heber Sanchaz Dominguez.
Victor Manuel Diaz. Parady La. With every silver name,
the notes stuck in my throat like coal, as if trapped there,
wedged with thick ache for each human, their families.
Luis Beltran Yanez-Cruz. Luis Gustavo Nune Cacéres.
Geraldo Lunas Campos. And every note that stuck wrestled
itself free to vibrate in the air with all other voices far and near
who were singing, Hold on, hold on. Nenko Stanev Gantchev.
Delvin Francisco Rodrigeuz. Fouad Saeed Abdulkadir.
My dear ones. Here comes the dawn. And the names went on.
And the names went on. And we sang. And we sang. Because
singing brings us closer, creates warmth and communion
where there was none. Because the dawn has not come.
Because these were daughters and mothers and brothers
and sons. Renee Nicole Good. Alex Pretti. Keith Porter.
We sang. We sang because they are more than names.
We sang. Through our tears. All together. We sang.

*Lyric and music by Heidi Wilson. For sheet music and audio, visit Heidi’s Patreon site.

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Dear Finn,

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , on October 22, 2025| 14 Comments »


 
On the way home from the protest,
It occurred to me you likely would have
stood quietly on the corner of Oak and Colorado
with a sign that said, I stand with the President.
It makes me grateful we were able
to talk about such things when you were here,
both of us loving our country in such different ways.
I’m sure somehow you know they flew
the American flag over the capitol building
in DC for you, a gift from someone we never met.
They sent us that flag. It flew over the school
on the day you didn’t graduate.
I sat in the school parking lot that day and watched
the breeze lift its corners, giving life to the flag,
somehow giving life to you, too.
Every time I see the American flag, I say hello to you,
especially the flag at the bottom of our drive.
I know you don’t hear me when I greet you,
but somehow I know you do. Like the way I don’t
hear the sun, its wavelengths measured
in hundreds of miles. Just because I can’t
comprehend the sound doesn’t mean the sound
isn’t there. So I send my small yawp into the air,
and trust our mutual love for our country still brings
us together somehow. Me in person, you in the wind,
the wind that catches this hello from my lips
and carries it beyond what is here. What is here?
The chance to remember how deeply we can love
those who are so different from us. The chance
to remember how unity can look like disagreement.
The chance to remember what is here is sometimes,
like peace, what doesn’t seem to be here.  

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Revolution

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , on April 5, 2025| 3 Comments »


After the political rally, standing on the corner
was the man in the pink flamingo onesie
and the handlebar mustache playing ukelele,
singing “This Land Was Made for You And Me,”
surrounded by folks still carrying their signs
for Peace, Diversity and Equality, and though
no one was listening, though there were no news trucks,
no microphones, no megaphones, and no way
any politician would hear their voices or see their signs,
there they were, singing and showing up despite,
and this was the moment that made me believe
in the path—not just the grand marches toward freedom,
but also the thin trails marked with courage and creativity,
small moments I can follow like bread crumbs
till this country again feels like home.

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