Mother, movement, civil rights-

These words are not enough,

Praising her in darkest nights,

Convincing, brave, and tough …

Rosa Parks, in fifty-five,

December, chose to change,

Chance the tribulation’s jive

So things could rearrange.

Southern ranking prejudice,

Compounded in its fuss,

Valued in its edifice,

To force her on a bus

Placing her beyond the rear,

Despite an empty seat.

Rosa Parks removed her fear

And planted firmly feet.

Busses were a public choice,

A transportation screen,

Rosa spoke her mind and voice

But met with the obscene.

Driver called the cops and fueled

Requesting her arrest

On that day injustice ruled,

As “white laws” would attest.

She, a woman of great class,

Prevailing in her cause

Would not let such hatred pass-

Discrimination’s claws.

Peace and civil liberty,

She sought a greater good.

Stood to thwart hypocrisy

As truth was understood.

Rosa let the caged bird sing,

America would hear.

Dr. Martin Luther King

Responded in his cheer.

Jr. praised her every move-

Responsive in his pride,

Equal rights, the cog and groove-

They could not be denied.

Alabama, in the South

A woman rightly proved

Action spoke as freedom’s mouth-

“No, I shall not be moved.”

Thunder under foot about;

Her race marched to her roar,

Gentle lioness’s shout-

Abiding shore to shore.

Black and white, uneven two,

Until all joined as one-

Making grey the common hue

As justice would be done.

Statutes offered pressed in shape

But Rosa Parks declined

Separation’s falling drape

Created color blind.

Equal as no skin tone made

A man or woman less,

Virtuousity displayed

Her presence would confess.

Truly she was awe inspired

In civil movement’s flare.

Perseverance never tired-

She held the torch with care.

Raising still the blazing marks

If prejudice may call,

Thanks to those like Rosa Parks

Equality for all

Will not slip into the cracks

Of failure, sewn in thread

Joining hands of whites and blacks,

Together, breaking bread.

Rosa now has gone away,

A mother, matron, queen.

Victory is on display-

Equality is seen …

Truly missed, defeating plights-

A soul that kindles sparks,

“Mother of all Civil Rights”

For you, Mrs. Rosa Parks.

When people tell tales about how they came to be, I laugh. They go into rapture about the light and the dark, day and night, explosions, land rising out of a never-ending expanse of water, and I laugh. People go into theories on evolution versus creationism, and I laugh. Because the truth is none of those people have any idea about how they came to be. It is all one big guess and the truth is something most people would never even think of. In actuality I didn't create this universe, we just appeared as if an errant thought of the universe. You see, I am considered the creator of this universe therefore I know the truth of how we really came to be. My universe is simply one of the billions of multiverses in reality, we were thought up from an idea in someone's third grade class by a little girl with the name of Sarah. But, she wanted her universe to have someone to look over it and know all. Someone to watch out and create her ideas of the universe. So I popped into existence. Sarah has long since abandoned us, never knowing that her imaginings from third grade spawned a universe. I am the creator, and the caretaker, and I laugh. 

"I don't usually say this, but that was god awful what I made." I look over at Jesus, who is panting and sweat is running down his face and beard. I smile at him. "Shall we try again?" He nods, pausing a moment.

"But where did we go wrong?" He asks. "You are God. How could it fail?" I look at the Earth. It's quiet now. I don't hear the wails anymore. No more calls and shouts to me, expecting me to take them out of a problem they put themselves in. Or maybe it was natural, but they blame me for mistreating their home.

"Well make them the same." I offer. "Same biology, same anatomy. But we'll change one thing."

"What's that?" Jesus asked.

"We'll make them more human."