Abundant Hope

On Martin Luther King Day, we present this work that was written in his honor.

Maya Angelou
American
1928 – 2014

Reverend Martin Luther King

The great soul
Flew from the Creator
Bearing manna of hope
For his country
Starving severely from an absence
of compassion.

Martin Luther King

The Great Spirit,
Came from the Creator
Proffering a sparkling fountain of fair play
To his country
Parched and deformed by hate.
The whole man came forth
With a brain of gentle wisdom
To persuade quiet
Upon the loud misery of the mob.
A whole man stood out
With a mellifluous voice
To bind the joints of cruelty.
A whole man came
In the midst of a murderous nightmare
Surrounded by demons of war
He dared to dream peace and serenity
With a heart of faith
He hoped
To resurrect his nation.
I open my mouth to the Lord,
And I won’t turn back.

Martin Luther King

Faced the racial
Mountain of segregation and
And bade it move.
The giant mound of human ignorance
Centuries old
And rigid in its determination
Did move, however slightly,
however infinitesimally,
It did move.
I will go, I shall go
I’ll see what the end will be.

Martin Luther King

Brought winds of healing
To his country
Reeling unsteady
With the illness
Of racial prejudice,
Screams of vulgarity
Could not silence him.
Fire bombs and dogs
Could not take his voice away
Ona my knees,
I told God how you treated me
Ona my knees.
He knew himself
A child of God
On a mission from God, and
Standing in the hand of God.
He spoke to the hideous hearts
And to the bitter monstrosities
And asked them to transform
Their ways and thereby
Liberate his country.
Representing the grace of heaven
He spoke to the evils of Hell
Representing gentleness
He sang to brutes.
He brought the great songs of faith
Persuading men and women
To think beyond
Their baser nature.
Lord, don’t move your mountain,
Just give me strength to climb it.
He hummed the old gospels
Encouraging the folk to act
Beyond their puny selves.
You don’t have to move
That stumbling block,
Lord, just lead me around it.
Leader to those who would be led
And hero to millions.

Martin Luther King

Was father to
Yolanda,
Martin, III,
Dexter, and,
Bernice.
He was lover
Friend, and
Husband
To
Coretta Scott King.
He spoke respectfully
Of the Torah.
He spoke respectfully
Of the Koran.
In India, walked in the footprints
Of Mohandas Mahatma Gandhi.
Christianity made him patient
With all religions
And his tremendous heart
Made him believe
That all people
Were his people
All creeds and cultures
Were comfortable in
His giant embrace
And all just causes
Were his to support and extol
Through sermons and allocutions
With praise songs and orations
He preached fair play and serenity
From hand cuffs and prison garb
From leg irons and prison bars
He taught triumph over loss
And love over despair
Hallelujah over the dirges and
Joy over moaning.
Fear not, we’ve come too far to turn back
We are not afraid, and
We shall overcome
We shall overcome
Deep in my heart
I do believe
We shall overcome
Someday.

On the Border

In honor of Moroccan Independence day, we present a work by one of the nation’s finest living poets.

Hafsa Bekri
Moroccan
b. 1948

 

Being on the border
on the edge,
on the verge
on the brink
on the brim
on the rim
on the fringe
on the coast
on the bank
of Scotland and
finding an open door

No boundaries
no barriers
no pillar of Hercules to crush
no Rubicon to cross
only a few stoned dwarf Wall
in a dreamlike nature
now veiled in mist
now blooming in the sun

And

People !
All the Grahams and Bells
the Ogles and the Pringles,
the Armstrongs and the Robsons
the Nixons and the Dixons
the Scotts , and the Elliotts
The Ridleys, and the Beatties

All these and other Reivers,
Once dreaded warriors
Now peaceful farmers or
Haafnetters
Joined for ales or else
In Kingsarms Pub
with no arms but
darts to play and jokes to share

I felt tempted
In this land
Teeming with ghosts
To ask Hadrian’s soul
Perhaps present and invisible
In some corner of this pub
Where his fort once stood,
Ask his two thousand year old soul
About people and barriers.

And I could almost sense
A smile on his face
As he would tell me:
“Poets and poetry taught me
History’s ephemeral vanity and
The strength of life over stones
At the self moment I was building
Walls”

And Hadrian’s soul
Suddenly vanished
As Lawrence in his Scottish kilt
Gave vent to a cry of joy :
He had won the darts game !