The Voice of Change

Poetic ponderings on Independence Day.
From a girl who sat through the pledge, raised an upside down flag, 
and laid down in protest.
Amber waves of grain and purple mountain majesties? 
She's not sure of these.
She is sure that men and women bravely stood for her freedom.
She knows from great injustices these have come.
She had sold cupcakes for peace and marched in lines.
She has swam in the oceans and breathed in redwoods and ancient pines.
Thankful for her country? 
Why, yes, because its ours, right or wrong, its you and me.
We are the voice of change.
We will teach the children how to hold just reigns.
We are the red, white, and blue.
Red like the skin of our native parents.
White like the hair of those so wise.
Blue like the Pacific Ocean and Montana skies.
History, like us, we cannot correct.
But we can be the change that gives birth to a lasting effect.
We can only do right from here and into the next hour.
Learning from our mistakes to give us true power.
Apology you need, to stand with me? 
Our parents, skin red like clay, hair white like an eagle, 
who rode in the boats on that blue sea.
They need no apology.
I am thankful, THEY are my red, white, and blue.
Yours. Mine. OUR history.