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TO DUE TIME AND SEASON
In the deep winter womb of mind
the heart yet glows
with fervent warmth
of hope un-died;
hope un-denied—
in due season to come,
faith firmly fitted for the testing.
Though life’s winding stairway
seem to veil much—
we are children of the sun—
under which all revelations
are reflected yesterday, today
and tomorrow’s tomorrows;
come let us continue to plow the way.
Let us rise and continue to sow pregnant seeds
in the fertile rows the struggle has bumped
and folded on the face of mother earth;
let us continue to mulch the seedlings
of our visions in the fields of our dreams
that we may yet reap ripening fruits
of our promised emancipation.
When the harvest is plentiful
so equally must be the reapers
that our plow sheds not be abandoned
burdens of emptiness ghost dreams left;
nor like crack shells that once housed eggs
that life left stuck in the mud of fear; rather
let us walk the footsteps dried in fear’s mud.
Let us not to be the children of Sisyphus;
for rocks, like their statues, can’t grow;
we are children of the tree of resurrection
destined not to wander the proverbial desert
but to fly to the mountain top on phoenix wings
and swoop down in due season into the valley
and grasp in our mighty talons, heinous injustice.
Indeed, no lie can live forever—
the winter chill of injustice
shall become as ice in the presence
of the rising Sun coming like Joshua
to the walls of Jericho—melting “in-“
leaving “justice†flowing like a mighty river
cascading into the sea of redemption.
So let us not wallow in the weakness of despair;
and be not in distress, for in due time
we shall be delivered…from lying lips and deceitful
tongues…as if by two-headed arrows
balancing new scales of justice; the all seeing eye
watching from up on high and in due season, surely
spring and hope shall usher in freedom, peace and love.
