Listen carefully, quietly
Make no sound.
Put aside the daily fears and trials
That cloak the sounds,
Hold the paper in your hands,
Hands that can make anything
Or do anything
Or say anything they wish
Feel it. Smell it. Hear them?
From across time
A thousand thousand spirits
Are weeping and pleading,
Singing and laughing.
Asking nothing more from us
But that we listen
The voices say
"Let not the wispy mists of time
Erase our goodness and honor.
Teach the young to hear
What you hear now."
"Let them hear the rattle of drums
And the clatter of sabers.
Let them hear the sandy surf
Where youth fell dying
Amidst the echoes of courage."
Bring forth the ancient parchment
And clench it tightly to your breast.
Close your eyes and listen
For the cries of joy
As another child is cured
Or born free with a healthy wail.
Listen to the voices
Of the brave souls who
Went ahead to slay what was wrong
With the mighty sword of justice.
They whisper from the paper,
"Have no fear, for we are here with you."
Far more than mere paper this,
It contains within the essence of freedom.
In it resides the hopes of heros and hearts
That put aside lesser things like family
With faded ink and tattered pages,
Defiled by black hearts and virtueless souls,
The paper lives on, but draws a raspy breath.
And in the memories of generations now and then
The voices whisper from beyond the fog and smoke,
"We live on in your Liberty.
Relinquish it and we are all lost forever."
Proprieter, The Conservative Diner