STANDING ON THE ROCK
The bones of ancestors are rattling…shaking—
Itching from infectious dust of stagnation;
Aware we must be…Liberty is not a rock
And we’re not children of Sisyphus—nor
Weak branches fallen from the ancestral vine.
We are the children of Light—of the Lamb
And the Lion—soaring on the wings of the Bird
Of all creatures—to whom roadblock rocks
Are like the shells of historical eggs—here…before us.
As we ascend the preverbal rock of freedom’s mountain,
Let us not tread in darkness nor rest in stagnation.
Let our pausing be mere moments of reflection—Meditating.
Finding new strategies to meet and conquer new challenges.
Come…let us travel the sojourn of our ancestors—plunging deep
Into our story—rising in the spiraling smoke of memory—revealing
Traveled paths of once alien mountains lined with whispering trees
Marking…Lighting the way of the prophetic underground journey.
Justice today…like roaches and time…remains elusive—a ghosting;
But—like truth—though crucified…will not be denied its Easter.
Indeed—Out of the ashes of lies—the Phoenix of Liberation rises…
Leaving behind nightmares of setbacks, releasing prophetic visions
Giving reality to promised freedom at last—standing on the Rock of Life.
PostScript: “And they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they
Shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary;
And they shall walk and not faint.”