In the quiet valleys of Appalachia,
where mountains cradle stories,
they gather—
the tired, the weary,
finding strength in shared struggle,
hands clasped under the weight of loss.

From the rolling hills of the South,
where rivers mourn the past,
they come, bearing the scars of tragedy,
united in sorrow,
their voices rising like smoke,
each word a testament to resilience.

Across the parched earth of California,
where wildfires devour,
they stand together,
ashes swirling,
as hope flickers like the embers,
a beacon amid chaos.

Bring us your tired, your poor,
those seeking refuge in this land,
for here we are,
the huddled masses,
yearning not just for freedom,
but for truth, for connection,
to pierce the veil of division,
to shatter the silence of censorship.

In the face of despair,
we are bound by the threads of empathy,
woven through shared dreams,
as the heart of America beats,
a rhythmic pulse,
a chorus of humanity,
rising above the clamor of manipulation,
a symphony of voices
united in the quest for understanding,
for healing, for home.

And so we gather,
from Appalachia to the West Coast,
across the devastated South,
not as separate stories,
but as one unfolding narrative,
a testament to resilience,
to the unyielding spirit
that carries us forward,
into the dawn of possibility.

***My heart feels heavy y’all–how are YOU feeling?

copyright @ Heather Lynn Gifford-The Heart of Heather