Lady In Waiting

naama-lady-liberty

(Photo: Na’ama Yehuda)

 

If he could make it there, he’d make it anywhere.

It was the axiom he had placed everything on.

He held on to the promise when his body hurt from beatings. He played the image of it in his mind when emptiness of heart and stomach kept him from shut-eye. He whispered small encouragements to himself to drown the insults that insisted he was nothing.

For he was. Someone.

He had to believe.

The words she said.

About where he could be.

Himself.

If he lived.

So he did.

And lit beneath storm clouds, she stood, waiting.

For the day.

 

 

 

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers (Thank you for using my photo as a prompt this week!)

 

Liberty Sail

Liberty sail IngeVandormael

Photo: Inge Vandormael

 

So she stands in the harbor

Greeting weary souls’ sails.

Her eyes had welcomed

The many

Who fled war, harm, travail.

She faced cannons

Of hardship,

Wept as terror sought

To prevail.

She marks the better

We can be,

The stories nations

Can be proud

To tell.

Through many storms

In the harbor,

She lights the way

In the gale.

As hate now amplifies sorrow

Seeking to see her bounty

Curtailed,

She hopes her pledge ‘cross the ages

Won’t become one made

To no avail.

 

For the Tuesday Photo Challenge: our world