By Nathaniel E. Hocker on February 6, 2020
For every stone, there is a bug.
Why must you continue to tread on a land that is rightly mine, the land my ancestors worked, the land you seek to claim. How dare you walk your dirty feet on a land that is sacred, a land that is holy. You aren’t worthy!
For every stone, there is light.
I know purpose is coming, but will I ever get up from this comfort? Will I ever rise to claim my prize? Can I truly do what is expected of me in a country where I am expected to be silent?
For every stone, there is wind.
The bustle of the outside is like a constant poke from a child on the bus while traversing the journey to work. Unbeknownst to his mother, he is wanting attention. In my day, a spanking sufficed.
For every stone, there is a tree.
Like the strength of a mighty oak, I feel the passion rising in me to be the best me, in a time where I am often silenced because of our history. The change I dream of is near . . . it’s coming!
For every stone, there is rain.
My tongue is scorched with hatred as the people stop and stare. I don’t belong here, yet I must be here. I want to be belligerent as they have been each day I’ve come. Shall I remain silent, or shall I act?
For every stone, there is a storm.
The sound of war is new to many, normal to us. Like the bellow from a drum, the buildings continue to fall. We must move again; another nest of emptiness awaits.
For every stone, there is silence.
Moving on our behalf is the holiest of holies. He comes to us when in need, when in doubt, when we’ve lost our moments of favor. Where is He now, when the shackles are too tight?
For every stone, there is hope.
Giving in is not for the bravest of heart. I must endure a bit longer. The radiance of my shine mustn’t dull, as the brilliance of my mind is a weapon. What a terrible thing to waste . . .
For every stone, a new day dawns.