On Patriotism There is something wonderful about our flagThat stirs within me a desire to place a trembling hand upon my heartAnd pledge allegiance to this country that,For the sake of world peace, has given until it is almost dry,Until the well is almost depletedWith just enough reserve to keep us free What mockery is there, I wonder, in the minds of thoseWho have come to escape persecution only to turnAnd write graffiti on the hallowed wallsWhen they realize the streets of America are not paved with gold They see and sometimes live in poverty and filthAnd recognize the dumpsters overflowing with debrisAre not so different from what they have left behind But cannot they, as well as those who were privilegedTo be born here, raise their eyes to the mountains’ loftinessAnd aspire to reach those heights,Or see the desert in bloom with the stalwart saguarosOn duty as sentinels and aspire to stand as tallAnd see the cactus parading their passionate flowers which cryTo the observer, admire me for my blossoms andSee past the thorns which I wear to protect my flowersAnd aspire to be as beautiful as I Cannot they see acre after acre of wheat fields straining to abandonThe confines of the land and dance in the gentle breezeThat stirs them to artistic endeavors of a different kindCannot they aspire to that freedom too Everywhere we look, there is beauty, simple, gracious beauty,Stark, overwhelming beauty, majestic, finite beauty;And it is ours, our heritage, our freedom I do not have self-pity for having less than othersFor I have more than many and I have my country, my America,My gift from the God who loves us enough to free us fromOppression, who has given us perhaps too much freedom,For at times, we seem to forget from whom the gifts have come!…