By Janet Hilliker

Lawn chairs on tan grass.

Around us,

Our city’s weekly rally,

Supporting our democracy, our constitution.

Our monthly meeting holds silent worship

During the loud demonstration.

Deep centering

Sends waves of peace

Out to a hundred people.

A dog barks.

A nearby woman says,

“Your hands look cold.

I’ll hold your sign

While you put on your gloves.”

Our eyes closed,

We experience the Inner Light.

Someone plays a boom box nearby,

The Boss’s new protest song.

Horns beep often.

One rally attender responds

With a hand-held klaxon horn, “Awooga!”

The drumming circle across the street

Gives us rhythm.

Our silence holds strongly

In this chaos.

A semi driver passes

With a low, loud honk.

Someone who disagrees with us

Drives by in a pickup truck,

Revving the engine thunderously.

We send love to them, Also children of God.