Requiem of Hope (A Poem)

REQUIEM OF HOPE

By A. Garcia-Wiltse

To walk among the fruited plains

where marched the Blue and Grey –

and where once roamed –

free and wild –

the bison and the antelope.

To imagine the expanse

of vestal land and sea –

and the beauty and the majesty

of untouched horizons –

and unblemished sunrise and sunsets –

that rise from the womb of time –

and fade and slowly set

into a living sea

of molten dreams.

To feel the winds of time

against the brow and limbs

that used to bow and stoop

and curtsy at every turn –

now standing tall

with pride and self-esteem –

before no royal crown or kingdom –

but in a wilderness

beyond imagination –

blossoming with brotherhood

and hope.

To have journeyed

through the perilous wrathful seas

that divide and separate

unknown worlds that strive and thrive

amongst untamed swamps and ponds –

and lakes, lagoons and uncharted rivers

that seem to flow forever –

simply to appease

an impassioned quest –

borne of one notion –

one dream.

A pilgrim’s pursuit –

a human reaction –

to seek and to find –

the promised land

of milk and honey –

and of liberating strife. 

Those were the days –

one at a time –

that defined and explained

the birth of a nation.

A nation of pilgrims –

of dreamers –

of ordinary men and women –

whose pursuit of happiness –

of liberty –

of justice –

though sometimes flawed

and imperfect –

laid the foundation

upon which stands

the destiny of man.

And – to my dismay –

it is that very destiny

that is imperiled

by a return to the supremacy

of a crown – of a kingdom –

and of return of the sovereign –

that once inspired and aroused

the flight and the flight

for liberty.

To walk and see and feel

the breadth and scope of our nation –

our America –

from sea to shining sea –

from purple mountains majesty –

to fruited plains –

where once roamed

the bison, the antelope, the buffalo –

I sense a dying dream

of triumphs and of victories –

of errors and omissions –

of joys and of sorrows –

that bring back memories

of the promise

that was America. 

How sad to see

our flag unfurled –

limp and lifeless. 

How tragic to hear

the commotion and the disruption

that fills the halls

that once honed the eloquence

of the best of us –

while speaking,

praying,

singing,

debating –

the conscience of our nation –

and the on-going dream

of correcting imperfections –

and achieving the improbable –

and living the impossible dream. 

And all

because of an idea.

O beautiful –

the memories of patriot dreams

that saw beyond

the anguished and tormented years –

when flowed the human tears

of fear and of sacrifice.

How brave the hearts that beat –

how bold the minds

that set ablaze the flames

of hope

with words and thoughts

that inspired the imagination –

and enflamed the courage to persevere –

through all the adversities –

all hardships –

all challenges and misfortunes –

spawned and brought about

by the worst of us –

the worst in us. 

I want to see and feel and imagine again –

our Pilgrim’s impassioned quest. 

That sense of destiny

that inspired hope –

enflamed courage –

and stirred hearts and minds –

to envision and to dream –

despite the challenges –

despite the disruptions –

despite the commotions. 

And like our Founding Fathers –

I want to believe

that the idea and ideals

they struggled and sacrificed for –

is still the providence

of the American Dream –

the American Idea. 

No matter the time –

nor the arrogance or greed –

that seek to undo and tear apart

the Constitution that enshrines

the best of who we once were –

and who we still are.