The Path

Walk with me on this path awhile

And maybe then you'll see

There are not so many differences

Between you and me:

We both want safety

And a place to lay our heads,

We sweat in the desert heat

And our cactus cuts bleed red.

We love our children more than life

And so we'd give just that—

Our very breath for more of theirs,

Or at least a fighting chance.

Sand and dust coat our throats

And we both wish for trees—

You to plant an orchard,

And me to sense a breeze

We both remember how it feels

To cheer "Victory!" for our teams,

We both have turned on the news

And realized life's not what it seems.

We both have laughed with those we love

At least a time or two,

We both have buried these same hearts

And prayed no more to lose

We both have raised food to our mouths

And shared some from our plate,

We both have felt the joy of love

And the hopelessness of hate.

We both have looked in on ourselves

And wondered where we are,

Have traipsed down well-worn, dusty paths

And hoped we were not far

From peace, from rest

From a bed, some food

From a neighbor with a hand outstretched,

A God who calls us "Good"

From laughter, from life

From a land of loam

From a pueblo with a hand outstretched,

A God who calls us home

And when we are done walking

We can plant a tree

In place of the wall we crossed

While sharing in our humanity.

You can pick some apples

And I will patch our wounds

Our children can scatter seeds of peace

In the light of the gentle moon.

And should our stories ever cease

Or if we should forget,

I'll take your hand, yours in mine

And we'll walk this path again

YAGM cohort in Parque Revolución, Ciudad de México, September 2023