My winterguard season!!!
Now I'm going to try to write the words that are from our show!!!!
We this people on a small and lonely planet,
traveling through casual space passed aloof stars
across the way of indifferent Suns
to a destination where all signs tell us
it is possible and imperative
that we discover a brave and startling truth.
And when we come to it
to the day of peacemaking
When we release our fingers from FISTS of hostility,
and allow the pure air to cool our palms
When we come to it, when the curtain falls on the mistrel show of hate
and faces, sooted with scorn, are scrubbed clean
When battlefields, and coliseum
no longer rake our UNIQUE and peticular sons and daughters
up with the bruised and bloody grass
to lie in identical plots and foreign lands
When the rapacious storming of the churches
the screaming racket, in the temples has ceased
When the pennants are waving gaily
When the banners of the world tremble stoutly
In the good clean BREEZE
When we come to it, when we let the rifles fall from our shoulders
and children dress their dolls in flags of truth (or truce)
When landlines of DEATH have been removed,
and the aged may walk into evenings of PEACE
When the religious ritual is not perfumed by the incense of burning flesh,
and childhood dreams are not kicked awake by nightmares of abuse
When we come to it
Then we will confess that not the Pyramids with their stones set in mysterious perfection
Nor the Gardens of BabylonHanging as eternal beauty
In our collective memory
Not the Grand Canyon
Kindled into delicious color
By Western sunsets
Nor the Danube, flowing its blue soul into Europe
Not the sacred peak of Mount Fuji
Stretching to the Rising Sun
Neither Father Amazon nor Mother Mississippi who, without favor,
Nurture all creatures in the depths and on the shores
These are not the only wonders of the world
When we come to it
We this people
On the minescule and kithless globe
Who reach daily for the bomb, the blade, the dagger
Yet who petition in the dark
For tokens of PEACE.
We this people on this mote of matter
In whose mouths abide
CANCEROUS WORDS
Which challenge our existence,
Yet out of those same mouths
Can come songs of such exquisite sweetness
That the heart falters in its labor,
And the body is pieted into alm.
We this people on this small and drifting planet
Whose hands can strike with such abandon
That in a twinkling life is sapped from the living
Yet those hands can touch with such healing
Irresistible tenderness
That the haughty neck is happy to bow
And the parable back is glad to bend
Out of such chaos, of such contradiction
We learn
That we are neither Devils not divines
When we come to it
We, this people, on this wayward, floating body
Created on this earth, of this earth
Have the power to fashion for this earth
A climate where every man and every woman
Can live freely without sanctimonious piety
We, this people, on this wayward, floating body
Created on this earth, of this earth
Have the power to fashion for this earth
A climate where every man and every woman
Can live freely without sanctimonious piety
And without crippling fear
When we come to it we must confess that we are the possible
The true wonders of this world.
That is when and only when
We come to it
WOW that took forever but yeah! What a mature and amazing poem written by Maya Angelou. 💕💕💕 this season.
The end. 
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