The Song of Cardinals

An early morning, dogs walked,

Time to sit. Read the news.

Enjoy a cup of coffee and listen to the birds sing.



A twenty-two year old woman falls into a coma,

dying later at the hospital.

The police say she suffered a heart attack,

claiming their goal was educational only—

to teach her the proper way to wear hijab.



Now in Iran, women

bravely cut their hair and burn their hijabs

in protest of Mahsa Amini’s death.



I listen to the songs of cardinals

as they come to peck at the seeds from feeders

swinging from tall shepard hooks in my neighbor’s yard.



My hands shake as I lift my coffee cup to my lips.

No power.  My hands hold no power.  My body holds no power.

No power to help the women of Iran.  No power to protect them

from the brutality of the “Morality Police.”



I can not help but think of my own daughter of twenty three,

only a year older, just a year.

A moment of gratitude for her life,

For a moment, a sense of relief

that here in the U.S we have no “Morality Police”

Or “sharia” law— for my daughter’s sake….



But the moment of relief drifts away

on the song the cardinals sing—

We live in the state of Texas,

Which now holds dominion over her body.



My hands shake 

Powerless at the moment

	Only at the moment.

	Power rises as does anger.



The state, the nation, the world counted on fear to make us powerless.

	Yet now, injustices kindle the flame of power within us

	And nothing can stand against us once we unite.