Honoring Independence Day
In a bustling hall where voices rise,
A man stands firm, his gaze up high.
With rugged hands and weathered face,
He speaks with honor, quiet grace.
Norman’s brush, with strokes so fine,
Captures more than a moment in time.
It paints respect, a truth we share,
In every glance, a silent prayer.
Freedom to speak, to voice the heart,
Is more than words, it’s a sacred part.
Yet with this gift, a truth we find,
Respect must guide both voice and mind.
In that room, diverse and bright,
Each listens, grants the speaker’s right.
A tapestry of thought and creed,
Woven strong in a common need.
For freedom flourishes, not in force,
But in respect, its true discourse.
In Rockwell’s art, a lesson clear,
To speak with grace, to truly hear.
So let us learn from that bold scene,
To honor views, both harsh and keen.
For in respect, our freedoms grow,
A truth that Rockwell’s strokes bestow.
(Tuesday: learn where this poem comes from.)