
Our Daily Ballot
A poem about voting? Seriously?
We wait until November to cast our precious vote. And awaken the next morning feeling we’re in a capsized boat.
We struggle to hold our breath and pretend we’re in a dream. Surely we’ve not fully awakened. Is it premature to scream?
Casting our ballot of intent we expect manifestation. When the opposite occurs we feel separate from our nation.
We feel lost from the herd; alone in a hostile sea. We feel as though drowning like our future will not be.
But that is what you get when you only vote one day a year. A simple mark on a ballot cannot keep you out of fear.
Our every daily action expressed to everyone we meet is our real, true vote which no one can defeat.
The most powerful vote is a helping hand and a smile. There is no regret and no need for denial.
Every situation and person we meet is a chance for us to vote; a chance to change history and make our fears remote.
“Vote” is a four-letter word and so, too, is love. Voting may seem to take us down while love takes us above.
There are no winners or losers when we vote throughout our day. Why wait til November when you can make it happen today?
Is there someone or something that we are voting for? Or is it our individual actions that bring about so much more?
(I wrote this in November of 2016 in an attempt to cheer myself up.)
Copyright by White Feather. All Rights Reserved. See All My Poetry Here






