Though the storms of doom will rage against our bright windows opened to the day
And the perils of Main street and Wall street bid us foreboding while we linger under feather coverlets
While the headlines glorify mayhem and madness, we shall leap forward with red shoes made for dancing
We, a people of an unreasonable dream, will not be undone. Our very bones are made for this bright longing.
This faith which against the odds of empty houses, white houses, houses of financial ill repute and houselessness.
This faith will see us through and cause us to throw open our doors to our futures and shout
DAY! We cometh forth from the depths of yester-year! We will wear orange dresses and feathered hats,
READY OR NOT! HERE WE COME!
And while we claim the wreckage still piling up in the junkyard of ‘soul work’ still to be done
We shall not be put under the tires of commerce or commercial or cynicism
We cannot be talked out of our joy!