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“From the wicked that oppress me,
from my deadly enemies, who
compass me about…Arise, O Lord,
disappoint him, cast him down:
deliver my soul from the wicked…”
Woke this morning with my mind
locked on freedom…and giving praise
for another day in which I can rejoice
for more time…to be here in the struggle.
Armed with the invisible shield of grace,
I found myself walking down a lonely
country road here in the state of Virginia.
Though evident I was walking through
the shadows of death, I feared no evil; and
you know why black man just kept walking.
About a quarter of a mile down through
the wooded area, I realize that two butterflies
had been all along been hovering over me.
Then in the moment of awareness, they flew away;
soaring in their rainbow colors to other missions.
Then my focus fell upon the many ancient trees
that form a corridor along the lonely country road.
No doubt, their ancestors must have provided
the lumber for racist homes; the wood that heated
cold racist bodies and strong limbs for the lynching
for many of a black man walking to breathe free.
Walking with wide eyes fixed on these arboreal giants
reflecting their various imaging of metaphorical and
allegorical messages, suddenly power surreal visions
encapsulated me: slavery, lynching and underground
railroad passengers walking towards me waving hands.
A shout of “hey”, brought me back to true telling reality.
About two miles down this lonely country road, an old
black lady was walking out of the woods towards me.
“Morning Momma”, I said. She replied, “Boy! What you
doing walking down this here white folks country road?
Boy, you lost or crazy?” “No, Mam. No church today, so
I’m out here having a prayer and protest walk this morning.”
She informed me that she was coming from work; that she
had worked late last night and had to sleep in the garage.
And reminded me she was ok because the people knew she
was one of the Help at one of the white country residents.
Then she said, “Although you don’t have no sign and ain’t
making no noise, these her white boys could ride by here
and blow your head off for being a black man walking here.
So you just turn around and walk back the two miles with me
quietly protest walking with you back to my bus stop.”
After she boarded her bus, I continue the extra mile home
where I now sit sharing Sunday morning with you and these
scriptures: God is our refuge and strength, a very present help
in trouble…The Lord is [our] light and [our] salvation; whom shall
[we] be afraid.” (Psalms 46:1 & 27:1). Black man still walking…
~ Peace and Love, M. Lowe, 06/07/2020
