Down in Texas where the highways hum,
A door swung open and a blue tide come.
A House seat filled, a Capitol step,
A veteran’s voice that the county won’t forget.
Long-red lines felt a shift in the night,
Union boots laced for a longer fight.
The party chiefs called it a warning bell,
Saying change blows quiet before it starts to yell.
Sources:
Headlines in the wind, hearts on the wire,
Borders and ballots, smoke and fire.
Every tide is turning, every road is torn,
But mercy keeps on knocking like a break of dawn.
Hold on to one another when the sirens moan—
We’re building out of weather what we call home.
Downtown L.A., drums through the day,
“ICE out” rising where the sidewalks sway.
Sunset fell, the mood turned rough,
Bottles, sparks, and a winter of cuffs.
Officers braced while the lines grew thin,
Pepper in the air and the crowd pressed in.
By morning count, the streets were sore,
But the voices still echoed, “We can’t ignore.”
Sources:
Headlines in the wind, hearts on the wire,
Borders and ballots, smoke and fire.
Every tide is turning, every road is torn,
But mercy keeps on knocking like a break of dawn.
Hold on to one another when the sirens moan—
We’re building out of weather what we call home.
Across the desert where the tankers crawl,
A warning rolled like thunder: “Touch and it’s all.”
The old man of Tehran raised a shaken fist,
Said Washington hungers for oil in the mist.
He named dissent a coup in disguise,
Jailed the streets and shuttered the cries.
Branded Europe’s armies with a bitter brand,
Drew a line in sand after sand after sand.
Sources:
Balochistan shook with a single spark,
Hospitals and markets torn in the dark.
A rebel flag claimed the sorrow and smoke,
While families counted each missing spoke.
Islamabad pointed past the border’s seam,
Delhi said no to the blame-filled stream.
Women, children folded into prayer,
And foreign cash paused, weighed by the air.
Sources:
Headlines in the wind, hearts on the wire,
Borders and ballots, smoke and fire.
Every tide is turning, every road is torn,
But mercy keeps on knocking like a break of dawn.
Hold on to one another when the sirens moan—
We’re building out of weather what we call home.
Rafah woke like a rusted gate,
A pilot light flickered at a battered state.
After so long closed by a season of war,
An opening whispered along the border’s floor.
The last hostage found in a field of grief,
Cleared the path for a little relief.
With Egypt and Europe steadying the door,
Sick hearts prayed for a passage to shore.
Sources:
Then the ocean spun a cyclonic vow,
Carolina silver under heavy boughs.
Governor’s pen drew a line through the storm,
Florida shivered past the usual norm.
Flakes kissed palms by the Tampa bay,
Power lines sagged in a frozen sway.
Runways emptied, sky wrote “No,”
But children learned the quiet art of snow.
Sources:
Headlines in the wind, hearts on the wire,
Borders and ballots, smoke and fire.
Every tide is turning, every road is torn,
But mercy keeps on knocking like a break of dawn.
Raise your lantern high when the night storms blow—
We’ll sing above the engines, above the undertow.
From the streets to the deserts to the drifted loam,
We’re building out of weather what we call home.
We’re building out of weather what we call home.
