Higher Ground

There’s a trauma that sometimes sickens me
It sits in my cells, having traveled in generations of collective memory
Finds my own consciousness and whispers
“You cannot be free; your time’s almost up; there’s nothing more you can say or be
That makes a difference

Vile liquid churns in my stinging throat and
Fear grabs hold my fighting hope and
Stills my movement and hides my rope
To stop my climb
And all I want to do is find
Before the world finally sputters and unwinds
That heralding voice that lifts and resounds
“This is the way to Higher Ground”
Put my feet on that Higher Ground…
Plant my soul in Higher Ground…
Lord, just let me feel the thrill of Higher Ground!

Written by Regina YC Garcia, July 13, 2020