Unfurled

What is it about the flag that stirs our souls,
perhaps the grace with which it billows and blows,
or the way the wind dances around its folds?

No! Its glorious beauty is not in colors that fly,
but the heroism of each one who died,
to guarantee the banners right to wave.
Symbolically it weeps over every soldiers grave.

Woven into each single thread,
is the patriotism that is taught and bred,
in every child who learns the Pledge,
and every leader who folds its edge,
in reverence, as it's laid with solemnity,
in a box to be sent to grieving family.

Every star and every stripe,
are emblems of the blood and strife;
the struggle under tyranny,
that we might retain precious liberty.
 
Flag Day is set for our reflection;
some honest, personal introspection.
Do we feel gratitude, or take for granted,
the free soil, on which our feet are planted?

We should look up with grateful eyes,
giving thanks to the creator of the world,
each time we are privileged to see,
the red white and blue, unfurled.