Notes About The Poem
The restlessness in our streets.
Civil, Not Silent
We call it freedom,
but what is freedom without form?
A flame without a lantern,
a voice without a conscience,
a march that tramples the morning peace
just to echo its own rage.
We say we speak freely,
but truth is not noise.
Truth is not venom dressed as valor,
not rumor parading as revolution.
Speech is sacred,
when it builds, not breaks.
When it heals, not harms.
When it dares to be honest
even when honesty is inconvenient.
We say we protest,
but protest is not chaos.
It is choreography of conscience,
a civil dance of dissent.
It is the heartbeat of democracy,
not its hemorrhage.
It is a hand raised, not a fist clenched.
A sit-in, not a smash-out.
A song sung in the streets,
not a scream that silences others.
A civilized society is not just paved roads and tall buildings.
It is paved hearts and tall ethics.
It is liberty with love,
rights with responsibility,
freedom with form.
So speak,
but speak with truth.
Protest,
but protest with purpose.
Live free,
but live with grace.
Because civility is not weakness.
It is strength,
restrained.
It is fire,
refined.
It is freedom,
fulfilled.
JCC/OMP
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