The Patriot
As we journey into July together and Independence day celebrations begin, I invite you to consider this poem and the true meaning of patriotism. Let's release the showmanship and focus our attention on loving and caring for our brothers and sisters of all kinds.
A lone man emerged from his cabin in the woods
Gentle and kind his soul
Heart filled to the brim with love of this land
In his yard though, you'll find no flag pole
His neighbor came barreling down the road
Blasting music heard a mile away
He paused to roll down his window and yell,
"Dont'cha know, it's Independence day!?"
To the quiet gentlemen now tending his garden
Pulling weeds and watering fruitful ground
Much to his bold neighbors dismay, on his body
No red, white or blue could be found
The neighbor opened his door and got out of his truck
With him rolled an empty beer can
He sauntered over, chest puffed to assert
"Gardening? A woman's work, not fit for a man."
The gentleman didn't pause his hands
Gently smiling and lifting his head
He wished his neighbor well and continued on
Not taking to heart what he said
The neighbor ambled back to his truck
Two large flags flying in the wind
He didn't bother to pick up his can
Rushing off to light fireworks 'round the bend
The gentlemen carried on as he was
It was a large garden with much work to do
Woodland animals nearby soon joined him in peace
The exploding fireworks scaring birds as they flew
He opened his home and shed to shelter them
Took deep breaths as he heard the loud boom
The first of many fireworks to go off that night
A sound for him, triggered feelings of doom
He paused and gave thanks for his safety
Praying for peace within and beyond this country
For he knew of too many who suffered
Too many fearful, alone, and hungry
Without a parade, nor pomp and circumstance
He quietly tended his food crop
Just as he's done for many years now
With no intention to stop
At harvest, poured his kindness 'round the countryside
Sharing veggies and fruits with those in need
Remembering the sight of children he'd befriended
The ones he didn't have much to feed
Except the small packet of field rations
For he knew they needed him more than he
Snatching the food up with hauntingly grateful eyes
And then, gunfire starting, they did flee
One receiver of this season's nourishing food
The neighbor, his wife, and young child
A boy hungry not just for food
But for his wisdom, compassionate and mild
No, today you won't find stars and stripes on his chest
His home decorated in banner nor bow
For in the love and care he shows his people and land
A truer patriot, one could not know

Original poetry by Ashley Kay Andy
May your Fourth of July Celebrations bring gratitude for the opportunities we have to create positive change within our land. Let these ripples of love extend far beyond the illusion of borders and division.

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