writing on heaven’s walls…

i had planned
to sing
a merry tune
for you
to raise
your spirits
from life’s despairs
but
i could not find
one rhyme
while
words
of hate
fill the air
like
summer cicadas
nestled in
a nation’s darkness
so
i sat here
pondering how
to overcome
these barren thoughts
and
as i did
i saw one finch
join in song
with another
then
another
and
it was as if
god
had provided
the answer
we
must join in song
in a chorus
that defies
darkness
to usher in
the
new day’s
light

america singing an old tune…

the brown bag prophet
said
when i was young
it was
illegal
for a black
to marry
someone white
though
some brave souls
did
and
were punished
in ways
most cannot understand
but then
the laws changed
and
blacks
could marry
anyone
but
they paid
in ways
most cannot understand
now days
it’s politically incorrect
to mention race
or
gender preferences
unless
you’re one of
the president’s men
who clearly
state
you’ll pay
in ways
most
cannot understand

sunday school lesson…

still steaming
from
a staff meeting
i
visited
aunt bea
when
she heard why
i was upset
she said
you’ve never followed
conventional ways
of
thought
always opting
to
never
fully conform
or
reply
in an expected manner
i recall
when you were young
and
attending sunday school
one christmas
just before the annual
reenactment
of
the nativity
in which
your older sister
had been
cast in the role
of
shepherd
and
you
as
one
of the wise men
the teacher
asked your older sister
how she might
find the new-born
she said
follow the star
and
when
you
were asked
you said
follow
the shepherd