At Last

 

*****

It matters not which border crossed,
From desert dry or tempest tossed,
To waves of grain and freedom’s sigh, 
From womb’s dark hold to first-light’s cry—
You’re here, you’re here, at last.

It matters not what age you came,
Eight months or eighty years the same,
What color skin your parents’ face,
What faith from which they fled to grace—
You’re here, you’re here, at last.

Now eye to eye, measuring minds,
The hopeful search for justice finds
No honest man can blindly curse
One more l...