The Breaking of the Spell

A hundred thousand summers past
There walked here then, on virgin ground,
A medicine man that burnt his herbs
And made a spell to which this place was bound.

To the earth, he scattered ashes
To the sun, he raised his hands
And said, "All are welcomed to this place
But none can say they own these lands."

I was born of this one's blessing,
Seeded by his long travails,
Nurtured by his sacrifices,
And delivered by his rhythmic wails

I am the purple mountains
And the golden fields of grain
I am the snow that cools you
And the gently falling rain

I am also brick and mortar
Both the concrete and its cracks
The asphalt pressed by rolling wheels
And the locomotive tracks

I am the sand and sudsy wave
The desert heat and clammy cavern
The thirsty, sun-baked flatland lot
The storm-tossed boat and smoky tavern

So I am not just a gaily colored cloth
That flutters on a granite dome
For I am mostly what all beaten souls
Have come to call their foster home.

But now I fear my story ends in quiet
As eaters of death begin to spread an evil mood
Where even love is slurred and honor is berated
So you must help me wake my sleeping brood

My children doze in night but in their day lit time
They fought for me and unseen foster kin
Related not by blood but by their courage
And the principle that hatred is a sin.

Wake the ones who fought machines of murder
Their ancient words where taken from their jaws
Their homes uprooted and their game depleted
Their children stolen by the men with laws

Wake the ones who were taken here in chains
Who picked the cotton and pulled the heavy rope
They marched to find a freedom unremembered
Within a world that gave them little hope

Wake the ones who were stoic and unswerving
Who left the cozy hearths of their own birth
To fight for something men are all deserving:
To be counted for their own God-given worth.

And wake the wretched refuse, who had traveled very far,
The souls in dusky mine-shafts and the farmers in the sun,
The laborers in factories and toilers of the sea,
Wake them all because their work is not completely done.

Wake them now because my health is fading
Wake them from their slumbers in your heart
Know them as you know yourself, my children,
And let them show you how to play your part.

The shaman's spell, I fear, is close to breaking
Foul shadows gather to conspire my end
They use my name to bind you to their crimes
And into slavery they'll lead you to descend

So I beg of you to stop this needless sleeping
And stand up for the ancient promise keeping.

My name, you know, is "Liberty."
Your courage is my cost.
Speak out and wake that courage now
Or I am surely lost.