Beyond the Table Twelve

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In hopes that soon, a light we’ll find,

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Where systems work as they’re designed.

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Yet here we stand, in silent plea,

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For seats at tables meant for twelve, not we.

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u00a0

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We ponder, where the seated go,

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When more arrive, in this tableau?

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Is there room for one, for two, or three?

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Or is this table not where we should be?

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u00a0

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Our gaze focused on this singular feast,

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We forget the forests, not in the least.

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Unlimited trees, standing tall and free,

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Awaiting our hands, for tables to be.

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u00a0

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It takes skill, time, a vision clear,

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To turn these trees to tables dear.

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Crafted to fit, to hold, to stand,

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By our numbers, by our own hand.

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u00a0

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Why seek a place, where we must squeeze?

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When we can build with greater ease.

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Our tables, our spaces, uniquely ours,

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Grown from seeds, not borrowed powers.

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u00a0

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Let’s not look to those, in comfort’s embrace,

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To shift, to move, to make us space.

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Injustices, many, have shadowed our sun,

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Yet still, we rise, together as one.

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u00a0

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Our future, a canvas, vast and wide,

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With chances limitless by our side.

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To build a world, fair and just,

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For those to come, in us, their trust.

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u00a0

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So, let us leave the table set for twelve,

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And in the forests, our future delve.

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With our hands, our hearts, our minds,

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A better table, together, we’ll find.

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