Saturday, March 21, 2015

This land is your land. This land is my land.

There is a place, a land
where life has little value
with billions of nameless numbers
fighting for little space
little food, little clean water
little health access, little technology
but fighting with big hearts,
and big fearless dreams.

And there are lands
where life is celebrated with 
ultrasound posts
gender (inaccurately named) reveal posts
writing "Coming Soon" in beach sand posts
baby bump tracking posts
even before life exits our bodies.

In some lands, I find myself
more impatient
more rushed
more inclined to achieve
more entitled to quality service
more disappointed when I don't get it

And then there are lands
where time moves at a different pace
the hands of the clock ground you
in the most current second
and not in the moments to come
fretting, worrying, planning
even as the world watches your every move

There are also lands
where things come to a standstill
because they don't have cranes
and then there are lands
where abundance flows from under-aged kegs
and then there are those where one must secretly libate
Lands where race is brewed in a cup
and lands where sisters challenge brothers

No matter the land
there are stories to be told
What's one story of the land
where you come from?


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