A New Day Poem by Suzanne Hayasaki

A New Day

Hope rose like a dove
From the ashes of the vultures
Who came to pick at the carcass
Of the not-yet-dead republic
That some of us still love.

Voices rose in song and prayer
Ringing in the snowy air
Reminding us of the eternal youth
Of democracy renewed
Through oaths of service
And a return to truth.

America is not one man.
Nor is it the halls of power.
Ours is a nation of nurses
Singing verses of hymns for the dying,
Teachers reaching out through screens
To children trapped behind masks
Living through a tragedy
Made more dire by our leaders.

America is not made great by old white men.
It is held together by the descendants
Of immigrants and slaves,
Each generation building on the labor of the last,
Never resting, never settling for what they are told
They should expect.

Instead, in shattering the glass
Meant to hold them back
They free us all from the old molds
We had stiffened into
And shed the chrysalis
That kept our wings from spreading.

Today I glimpsed the future
As she flitted into history
On the wings of her own words
Awakening millions to the power
Of youth unsullied by cynicism
Unbowed by the weight of doubt
Unfettered by the 20th century
Ready to lead each other and us
In the recovery of America.

(For Amanda Gorman)