We sat up late again last night.
John and William had harsh words with each other
as they have so many other times,
Each feeling protective of the liberty that they strive
to uphold by creating laws and rules
that will surround it.
They go at each other like brothers
having a friendly fight after school,
Used to each other's arguments,
Each one brandishing the weapon of words
in the hopes of winning the duel -
Of being the one who can speak the sentence
that will end the debate.

The rest of us are made tired by the infinite need
to express precisely the right word or turn of phrase
that will communicate the idea in mind.
One word too much or too little and the meaning
will change, and it will not only change now,
but for all time.
We guard these debates despite our fatigue,
For they are the precious ground
from which a great tree shall grow.
They are the fertile earth from which the life
of a republic shall be given sustenance,
and the foundation upon which a new
and holy edifice shall be raised.