From hope to realization

Behind cascading waterfalls, are traces of pain and sorrow

The kindly morning awakens me, after the parade

Alone now to face the new, yet stark and stubbornly old reality

That change though a yearned ideal, is only an illusion

From the affected, blurry pomp and circumstance of hopeful faces

To the quiet afterthoughts, towards a need for renewal

I open my sanguine blithe eyes, to a new dawn of hopeful newness

Seeing a glimmer of hope, behind the veiled tumbling waterfall

Unsure of the swaying motion, of the changing tides of time

Neither going backwards nor forwards, we feel stymied

Needless pain inflicted, in the garden of lost promises

Fear, an instrument of misunderstanding yet relentless

Is ever present and stubborn, playing it's awful tune

Still resting upon that far horizon, sits a shimmer of hope

For hope still must spring eternal, in minds that ever yearn

For that refreshing morning awakening, and regeneration

Standing beneath that torrential, deluging waterfall

That embodies the lifetime, of combined awful and terrible tears of a people

Arms raised in supplication, to a new revival of our spirits

Uplifted in praises sung, to a promise to continue the fight

For after the parade, plans begin again in assurance

That the next celebrated pageantry, still forever maintains

That quickened excitement, forever reassuring

That the parade must always go on, never giving up hope

That this time for sure, is when change begins

A Change going come. (Sam Cooke).

N.A.