Holding On

We just wanted to see the fireworks
and a police blockade stood in our way.
The crowd broke through,
and we ran.
We ran like our lives
depended on it
because it did.
When you’ve got no papers
the boys in blue aren’t your friends.
We just wanted to see the fireworks
so I grabbed your hand
and held on.
I’m the citizen,
and I’m not letting you go.
Surprised to feel your hand,
holding me in just the same way.
We’re trusting it will all be Ok.
I’ve got you and you’ve got me.
Holding on.

We climbed into the airplane
and I watched
my city, my life before
spiral away.
We were both moving
up, forward, onward,
into a new life,
trading roles:
immigrant and native-born.
Neither of us knowing
just what the heck
we were going to do
when we landed.
Neither of knowing how to
navigate this new land.
Both of us facing culture shock
and adjustment.
Who was the idiot
travel agent who
gave us two seats,
one in front of the other?
So close, and yet so far?
In the space between seat and window
Your hand fit through.
You held me, I held you.
We’re trusting it will all be Ok.
I’ve got you and you’ve got me.
Holding on.

Now life is playing hardball again
throwing us curves
faster than we can bat.
There’s no thinking,
just reaction.
No knowing what
tomorrow will bring,
doing what’s right,
following our gut,
just waiting to see.
Hoping that God does bless
those that give back.
I cry at night with the worries
about a future that cannot be planned
the variables that cannot be controlled,
the desire to have feet on firm earth,
just for a while.
Wondering what the heck
was I thinking?
Signing up for this ball game.
You hold me and
take my hand, hug me tight.
We’re trusting it will all be Ok.
I’ve got you and you’ve got me.
Holding on.