Seamstress of our weary threads
our clothes too thin to matter, 
you sat down to make a stand
and made us walk together

Your grace taught us poise, 
no grapes of wrath 
no raisins in the sun 
for in your stride we knew 

Our journey had just begun.
Your shroud of courage did not let you rest. 
We did not ask the question 
nor understand the test.

Not knowing how far the answer 
our feet kissed many roads; 
we refused to ride the buses, 
instead we wore your clothes.

Rest now our mother, 
your sojourn is complete, 
for our eyes have seen a nation - 
humbled at your feet.