We March

"The question is not if we will be extremists,

but what kind of extremists we will be. Will we be extremists for hate or love."

I choose love.
 I choose protecting the rights of those who fall outside the box
of white men in American.
I choose letting women make the the best choice for their lives and their bodies.
I choose protecting our national parks, water supply, and mother earth.
I choose transparency, democracy, and honoring our Constitution.
I choose the truth.
I reject distorted lies, political spin, and obfuscation.
I'm appalled and deeply saddened this technique has innocculated
a large swath of population from identifying the facts.

Marching in DC was one of the most impactful experiences of my life.
I was profoundly moved by the community bond.
Pink pussy hats bobbed on metro platforms,
 and in grocery store isles before congregating on Independence avenue for the march.
A twenty minute metro ride took two hours because that's what happens when a million
people are headed to the same location.
Sometimes you have to go backwards to move forward.
Our journey became part of our march story
as did our slender depends, a suggestion Mad Whip read about in a NY magazine article.
Padlocked porta potties,
Trump's gift to The Women's March,
resulted in painfully long lines.
Depends saved the day.

The pulsing heartbeat of the crowd
kickstarted a feeling deep in my core that had been dormant since November 8th;
hope.
 A revolution is brewing.  I feel it vibrating in my bones.
I fear it may not always be peaceful, 
but pretending it's not happening won't stop it.
I choose to participate, to be on the right side of history,
TO RESIST.