And so - with clear, new voices we come.
Ascending full of wonder,
clasping hands to walk as one.
Wielding temperament and knowledge
from our years beneath the sun.
Yes - climbing up we come.

And so - coins fisted tight we come.
Progressing with our children,
holding high our chins to see.
Wiping noses, kissing foreheads,
drying tears on bended knee.
Yes - pushing up we come.

And so - shoes worn thin we come.
Rising with our parents,
straining minds to find a way.
Topsy-turvy turn events, and Lord,
still the price we pay.
Yes - dragging up we come.

And so - each alone/together we must come.
Striding tired, bruised and hungry,
mounting steps we dared not climb.
Building courage and with patience
through the sifting sands of time.

We waited, watched and grew from them,
how in our hearts we’ve yearned!
Felt the hopes that rose within us
and so from this we’ve learned.

Yes, some are numbed with anger
and some just numb with fear.
But still, Good God, this light that shines,
at last is all too clear!
With bundles, babes and burdens
ever onward we will run.
And so - My Sisters, even so;
ever onward we will come.

*The Blind Flier, Issue #10; 1997 *Poetry Magazine.com, Vol. III, No. IV; April 1998 *Feminista!, Vol. 2, Iss. #6; October 1998 *Seasons Magazine, Vol. 1, Iss. #1; October 1998

© Getty & Fey.