When the sun dawns over the rustling forest and weeping willows,

she rises too over the smokestack cities, 

home to you and me,

greeting both with morning glory and honeyed rays of hope:

hope for the past and hope for the shade,

hope for the fertile earth and hope for today.

Yes, we have been tormented.

But in torment, we found tolerance,

and in mourning, we have been made anew.

A new person and a new day.

So today, 

we speak out of turn and take a seat at the table,

telling ourselves to rise,

steeling this new solidarity to earn a bruised but bettered brave.

Together, paving the path

to a new day. 

Battered but still in bloom,

we shall wade and weather

the coursing river waters of doubt and divide,

and climb the Rocky Mountains of trust,

leaving an inheritance of joy for the generations beyond.

In my America, we will find our golden pride

and arrive at the promised land of milk and honey and 

tomorrow,

a glorious tomorrow.

Because we are imperfect, not worthless,

Not worthless but worth it.

Let us charge towards reformation, 

standing as one nation under the persevering blue sky,

escaping this is battle against "them"

and learning the meaning of us.

although we are not yet ready, we have awakened

not there but still trying

to rid ourselves of these barbed wire fences,

and find our fruitful forever in together.

So, a toast, I propose: 

to a melody of growth and a chorus of courage.

To overcoming the silence and continuing our journey 

for a joyous and triumphant home.