Here I am—threading the waters of life
in deep contemplation—pondering
My next stroke in swimming toward
The waiting shores of liberation:-
While much has been overcome
There still remains much more
To overcome in life’s roaring waters
If one is to remain afloat in its waves:-
Despite the Burmuda-Triangle-like
Waters that remain to be conquered,
The shell-like holes of my ears are filled
With streaming echoes of the flowing words:
Ain’t gonna let nothing Lordy, turn me’round…
Turn me’round…turn me’round…
Ain’t gonna let nothing Lordy, turn me’round
Turn me’round…turn me’round…
Gonna keep on’a
Stroking Lordy…Keeping on’a
Swimming Lordy…streaming
To freedom’s shores…
In the turbulent waters of today’s sea of life
There are no oppressive bordering reefs
That this Middle Passage child cannot
Whale-snorkel through at this time
Indeed, with heavenly hydrated hope
And breastplate faith, I’m now breaststroking
And freestyling waves of God to freedom’s shores
To froth upon the crystal sands of time of my liberation:-