Snap the Silence

The corridors of power echo empty,

Lights dimmed in offices once humming,

Because the numbers on a ledger mattered more

Than the faces of the people whose lives they touch.

We, the ordinary — the nurse, the teacher, the parent,

Waiting on benefits delayed, flights grounded,

Promises traded over filibusters and posturing.

I recall the autumn evenings with Kelli, our daughter wrapped in a quilt,

The hush of our living room, the world outside shifting, unsettled.

We speak of safe spaces and full lives — yet we watch

Our government stall, bargain with hope suspended.

The children who should sleep softly now stir in anxiety;

The worn-out workers unpaid stare at unopened pay-envelopes.

It is time — yes, time — to demand more than gridlock,

More than speeches made for cameras, more than loyalty to party

When loyalty should be to the people.

If the halls will not open to the public’s needs, perhaps

We should call them back — fresh voices, unafraid to serve,

Legislators who listen first, legislate second.

Let us imagine a snap election: a reset not because power fears change,

But because the electorate demands clarity, courage, compassion.

For what is government, if not the gathered will of the many?

And if the will goes un-heard, the government becomes a mirror

Showing only the few — not the whole.

So I stand, not shouting in anger, but speaking in hope:

We deserve representatives who remember their oath,

Who kneel in the rain of everyday life alongside us, not above.

Call the vote — not as vengeance, but renewal.

Because the obligation of leadership is to work for its people,

And the obligation of the people is to hold them accountable.

Let the halls resound with footsteps of new resolve.

Let the lights come back on not because of fear,

But because of purpose fulfilled.

Let us vote for those who would keep vigil for us

And who see our faces when they vote.

Let us elect true service, not spectacle.

And in the soft hush of those autumn evenings,

As we hold our daughter, our hopes, each other —

We’ll breathe easier knowing: we chose voices that heard us.

We chose government for the people, by the people — for real.

© Susie Stiles-Wolf