Today we awaken—
soft light trembling on our faces—
First, to absorb the hush of shock,
emotions streaming from tired eyes,
hands worn by the trials behind us,
unable to summon applause,
even as triumph calls.
Yet still, we rise.
We rise, we rise—
from shadows into light,
with hope reborn at dawn,
our hearts unbowed, our spirits strong.
Through every storm,
still, we rise—
to greet the day,
to claim the calm we’ve won.
In the hush,
we find the seeds of hope,
rest in the gentle shade of renewal,
witness what we have become—
then softly, surely, declare:
we have won.
We rise,
trampled and battered,
with storms at our side—
to the left, to the right—
still, we rise.
We rise, we rise—
from shadows into light,
with hope reborn at dawn,
our hearts unbowed, our spirits strong.
Through every storm,
still, we rise—
to greet the day,
to claim the calm we’ve won.
We pray to the sun for light to guide us,
then to the son for hope to rise within.
We lay down the weight of oppression,
conquer the beast of despair,
gather in the circle of survival,
and greet the new dawn we have won.
We rise, we rise—
from shadows into light,
with hope reborn at dawn,
our hearts unbowed, our spirits strong.
Through every storm,
still, we rise—
to greet the day,
to claim the calm we’ve won.
…
Corney Press 