“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”
There is so much to say about the state of this country and the world. I don’t even watch the news and the little that trickles to me is mostly devastating. The way my brain and heart works, I do not understand the reasoning behind so, so many things, too many to name. This country is a far cry from its inception in the best of ways and the worst of ways.
Through lonely tears I ponder and plead: what can I do?
The answer is always the same: Keep doing what you’re doing. Until that directive changes for me personally, I will keep shining, keep adventuring, keep hoping, keep smiling, keep loving, keep learning, keep trying, and keep pushing.
I hope your Women’s History Month has been insightful.