Anthem of Us

Anthem of us—let every voice through.

A village tuba by the stairs,
A choir still sorting out its chairs.
I hum the tune my mother knew;
A girl across the room hums too.
Her words are different, mine are small,
I nearly leave mine in the hall.
She taps a place beside her feet:
"Keep your verse. Come sing with me."

Don't smooth the edges off your name.
We don't have to sing the same.

Anthem of us, let every voice through.
I won't sing over you.
No one erased, no one too small.
Anthem of us—there's room for us all.

Tiri pamwe.
Aquí estamos.

Tiri pamwe.
Aquí estamos.
(Here we are.)

A Spanish verse, a Shona line,
We trade the lead, one at a time.
An old man hears a hymn return;
He folds the sheet before his turn.
The child beside him waits a beat,
Then sings the line he cannot reach.
He doesn't need to force the note;
He holds her hand and lets it go.

Don't smooth the edges off your name.
We don't have to sing the same.

Anthem of us, let every voice through.
I won't sing over you.
No one erased, no one too small.
Anthem of us—there's room for us all.

I nearly traded my own accent
For a voice you might applaud.
You leaned closer when it trembled:
"That's the one we're waiting for."

Anthem of us, let every voice through.
Now I can hear mine too.
No one erased, no one too small.
Anthem of us—there's room for us all.

Tiri pamwe.
Aquí estamos.
(Here we are.)
Anthem of us.

I keep my mother's tune.
You keep yours too.