A Cry For Down There

From the night sky the Sun had begun to creep through a parting formed by the clouds, a palette of blue began to absorb its light tones and a mixture of pink and purple was born There I stood, enveloped by the light, above all the noise, the cars and the people, above the city I called my home, and in my palms I held a question
My arms began to tense, and I gazed down at the culprit that had burdened me with this weight, I looked up, desperation in my eyes, hoping that something up there may be able to rid me of my uncertainty
‘Will it ever get better?’ I whispered
The question came from a deep root of wonder, sadness, pain, anger and loss
I wondered and had wondered for a long time if it would ever get better
I wondered if the sound of sirens that shook the walls and rung inside my ears would ever dim, or if the red that flashed would ever come to mean the same thing it did for others, help instead of danger
I wondered if the bodies who had come to call the streets their home, who’s beings occupied the corners and cracks of the country would ever lessen or if they would ever be able to have a home made of bricks, cement and glass, just like myself
I wondered if the girls and women that walked quickly in the darkness, fists clenching keys and eyes on fire would ever be able to feel safe again, if the length of their skirt would soon not echo the amount of respect they were owed, or if their bodies would ever be viewed as THEIR bodies
I wondered if I would live to see the day when I could walk into a room and not feel like a minority, under represented or un equal, if I or others like me would ever be judged for their personality before the colour of their skin, gender, body or sexual orientation

A Cry For Down There

I wondered if the violence would ever stop, if there would ever be an end to the sea of mothers and fathers who had to bury their children, or the animals and wildlife disappearing every day. If I’d ever not hear the words ‘gone too soon’, ‘or died so young’ muttered by broken voices on a busy street
I wondered if the light would ever break through the darkness down there like it had so beautifully up here, if a forgiving lilac or a loving rose would ever wash over the blue pavements enough to change the colour of our lives
And as I began my dismount back unto the city a ray of sunlight kissed my neck. Maybe it was a sign that somehow, I had been heard, that the sky had registered my plea or maybe it was just due to be sunny that day but for a moment there was hope and inside that hope was my answer.