I hear a song. Its words flood me with hope and remind me of all the goodness in this world yet at times it speaks to me with the wordless beauty of inspiration. Not one sound but many intertwined through the air of history resting upon the wind of desire and filled with the passion of restless souls.
It is the sound of agony and delight, pain and pleasure, sorrow and joy. It is the crying of an orphaned child, the crack of a slave master’s whip, the screams of the innocent. It is the laughter of a daughter, the first breath of a free man, the battle cry of heroes .
It is the melody of tragedy and the harmony of triumph rising up as a chorus throughout the ages. Though it is loud enough for all to hear few listen, but when they do they remake the course of our destiny and add their own unique voices to the anthem of all who came before. It both stirs my soul and haunts me with the omen of silence.
It is the song of all of us; it is who we are and who we might yet become. Liberty is the song and we are its instruments.