Still We Stand 

After Amanda Gorman’s “The Hill We Climb” and “The Miracle of Morning” 

Like light, we did not break— 

Instead you bent us out of shape. 

We watched our bodies twist, 

Contortionist, 

Spines snapped, 

Bones cracked, 

Tearstains on our faces, 

And still we stand. 

There is something admirable, 

I think, 

In a refusal to break. 

Sometimes, just 

Standing 

Is the bravest thing we can do. 

Maybe we are mourning, 

But the world is not in mourning. 

Maybe we are trembling, 

But the world is not trembling— 

There is sunshine in the sky, 

There are no earthquakes beneath our feet, 

The grass and the trees and the flowers continue to grow— We are bent, but we are not broken, 

And the world is watching with bated breath. 

Like light, we did not break, 

Though perhaps

A year has never made us feel so simultaneously great And so small. 

Maybe our knees gave under the weight of the sky, Maybe we broke down, 

Maybe we cried. 

Maybe we’re propping ourselves up against a wall To keep our legs from buckling, but we try— We are strong. 

We are survivors— 

More than that, 

We are healers, heroes, 

Here to fix the world left to us by our grandparents, And it is a big task— 

One that may twist and bruise and shatter bone— But together, 

Perhaps, 

We can accomplish it— 

Together, perhaps, 

We can heal, 

Because together, 

Still, 

We stand.