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On the wings of tilme, we have soared---
from the canyons of history---to the horizon
of new beginnings.
Animating from the clefs of struggle,
was heard a creak in the door of time---
Was seen, a spiraling light splitting darkness---
A liberty coming since the foundation of the world:
nothing can stop the coming of dawn, nor hold the night
in suspended aniation.
Here, at the crossroads of change, we stand; evolutionary
evidence of steadfastness: not an endangered species---
protected---nor predator, but survivors of present vicissitudes!
Long and arduous has been the trecherous journey;
blood debts remain. New generations must arise
to discover the wastline beginning of their rising---
Least they fail to realize who and whose they are.
Today, fossilized bones speak volumes
of the feats of our ancestors.
Were not our kingdoms beyond all measures?
Were we not in the beginning as were
the seeded fruits of the Garden of Eden?
No longer shkould we fear who and whose we are:
body and soul, marvelously made!
From creation's womb, were we spewed---riding
on the waves of change---a jubilee journey
coming to destiny's end---initiating new beginnings
in this land of promises made.
Yes, we can and will be the legacy of the seeds
our ancestors sowed and watered with the blood
that gave birth to new roots.
So let the blood flow of remembrance ruminate
upon the the historical stage---a new stage---scenes
of no Shakespearean tragedy nor Othello-like demises;
a stage whose curtaincall will echo: all is well...all is good.
