The Import


The force of good played an epic hand in the glory of victory. Against the tide of emotional, social, and political oppression did the labor of prosperity propel an omnipresent, undying dream. Quietly and persistently, mile by mile, stretch by stretch, stride by stride, many times crouching and crawling, a sprawling desire to construct love, order, peace, and equality made way in the fertile valley of manifestation.


Before leaving home, the remains of broken dreams were laid to rest. The roots of cultural familiarity were yanked from useless soil. A solemn gift of commemoration was offered three tiny children swooped to heaven after being cradled in their mother’s womb to term, but, through hands of destiny, unable to take their first breath. Deep ties of love to those who stayed behind were placed in an armored chest of cherished, priceless memories. Very little to nothing was there to pack, but very immense a vision was there to uphold. A journey on robust feet in tattered shoes with stoic hearts in rotting cloth embarked to a place where return home would often be difficult and hardly take place.

They marched through doors of social and political hostility. Through furtive actions, defined by one side as criminal and by the other as asylum, they made their way over the wall and set foot on the promising foundations of democracy where, without hesitation, they arduously reaped the fruits of economic opportunity. Day after day, year after year, decade after decade, they sowed the seeds of faith and created a legacy meant to fulfill the vision of this united land. Through moments of personal turmoil with undefined causes, embarrassment for misunderstanding the norms, the words, the signs, and, sometimes, the rules, submission to difficult and underpaid labor, unwelcome glances and words from those resistant to unfamiliar faces with foreign language and customs, my parents laid the groundwork for the coveted achievement of self-realization. In my mother’s womb, across a border created by man, in a vessel empowered by God, I made it to America.


photo credit: dennis.grailich Victory via photopin (license)

photo credit: x1klima Woman and Grief via photopin (license)

photo credit: yltsahg Liberty via photopin (license)


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s