Fired

It’s like a fire.
It burns,
The anxiety, the fierce desire
To preserve this reserve
Of liberty
To maintain the promise
The magic
The myth
Of us as one people
Of government for us
And by us
And of us.
Oh let it not perish
From the earth.
Let not our times
Be the times
When all that blood
In all that dirt
Cries out our failure against us.
Let not our days
Be the days
When the golden age fades
And the light that they left us
Casts its last ray.
No, let it not
Be in our days.

That is the fire.
That the desire.
Let the flame burn higher.
Higher and higher
Even be it now
But a tiny spark.
That’s all it takes.
That’s how it starts.