APRIL . . .
It's National Poetry Month! Here's one of my original poems pre-COVID 19 from 2020.
VISION WALKERS
by delores fisher
The
dream has not been deferred,
It exists, playing out on
an eternal time table we cannot control.
Many Vision walkers are long
dead,
Brother Martin and the elders . . .
Slain by the insane who scream
Vile obscenities cloaked in shape shifter
Media molded palliative atrocities.
Generation Z AND Alpha!
New generation of Vision walkers ---their legacy pierced with cloven fire
They hover above the valley of dry bones,
They hear the wind signaling
a new anointing,
They dream walking visions of a generational ancient call.
Knowing like the elders:
“To rise in victory, is to bow on humble knee
before an all mighty God
Whose justice streams on all of earth’s wretched and wealthy.”
Walk together children for stony the road we trod,
Weary, torn, and anxious . . .
We circle dance at precipitous ledge
Of twenty first century four corners at a spinning Cross Road.
Listen . . . Elders’ voices cry for
mercy on fragile word-winds of
"Freedom, Freedom . . .”
Cautionary for through their eyes, the Lord's glory shines
Not just freedom to be you
and me
But to become the image God wants us
to be.
Our dungeon’s must shake, Our chains fall off!!!!
So many suffering: past,
present, potential
Young Vision Walkers, With heart’s open eyes above whirling Cross Road four corners precipice, With ruach imbued vision, stand in the breach, transcend dry-bone valley:
Ubi Caritas.
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