what becomes of children who survive us?
indigo rosebuds or sunflowers risen of landfills
voices made of tire swings and milk crates
stick figures in sand drawn by fallen twigs
who looks history in the eye, grins
imagines worlds away within
the power to better
love above law
risk above comfort
for the lost and departed
wandering in memories unspoken
who will unruin this generation
their right to bloom brilliant,
stumble or fall
enchanted by tomorrows
here’s to the kids who live in Liberty City
bounce house and jumping rope
where no bullet lives to tell a fairytale
for the kids whose toes dip on shores
songs made of sandcastles and broken glass
rinsed by rushing water
return home to a land that welcomes another way
where no child is a refugee
here’s to the kids who live to see a world without walls
to the kids who cross-
examine borders, time zones, and language
who dab presidents out of rooms
and judges out of courthouses
a vote with values
music with no commercials
for the preservation of rivers, parks, and birds
to the kids who live
praise wind, light, and rain
here’s to the words they speak
trembling of blameless rage
old spirits thundering on tongues
here’s to holding hands with fortunetellers
to the kids who read palms
a gift with no return address
a world without begging fingers
to the kids who live in food desert boroughs
jubilant with full bellies and crops of care
thirst quenched from free fountains
here’s to the kids who live in tears turned from laughter
to serious play
may they never know caskets
before grayed hair and wrinkled skin
like crinkled poems in a old lover’s hold
here’s to the ones who live in photo albums
images teased of dreams
bless the child who remembers
who questions
and answers with courage
or the kids who live to bury their elders
bare a new story made possible
a test, a struggle, a journey that reveals the heart
here’s to the kids who live
who live and dare us
stand a side
may they embarrass us
show us who we are
here’s to the kids who live in us and never leave
resting in the dimples of a mirror
stretching through a glance
how many kids must die for us to live?
here’s to the kids who live in us
to the kids who live and demand
we act
in the doing
here and now
awestruck and unafraid