Storm

Jequetha’s Storm Early one morning, Jequetha, sat listening to naughty by nature lyrics. She knew that it was a special day, for she saw her sign in the night sky. She was forlorn by the sounds which she heard around her. Sad sounds of men and women in pain, inflicting wounds self doubt in retaliation. And the screams of children crying out for the earth. And she began to pray, “Mama Mary!! Black Mama who guides my steps! I feel a storm comin’! Make it right Mama!! Make it right!” And as the tears ran down her face, she knew she had a place in the beginnings of things. And her mother came into her room and said, “Baby, you’s gon’ bring the whirlwind!!” “Cause there’s mad men who done gone crazy and they believe that troops can solve the cracks and sores deep within. But you will be a balm, baby!! For Gilead shines through you. And because of you the world will know of God’s mercy. For God’s angry, but God’s love too !! God’s love too!” And Jequetha rose up and ran out into the night stars begging the forces of day to force the stars to shine brighter, for lighter days are coming.” Lighter days are coming, for storms are not always the end, but sometimes the beginning. Innocent men dying on crosses are nothing new. Innocent men on rows of death sentences scream out to the cosmos for a requiem. And God smiles, for many think they know the one! But they shun the son, who built the sun. Fast and Pray, that’s what the angels say. Cause a storm is comin’! For sons and daughters shall prophecy and the birds will fly in formations of war against black widows weaving webs of deceptions. For all tyrants will know the heat of honest requiem. And all valleys will be brought high, through the songs of Yoruba angels shouting Metakayase. Buddhist Christian prophets rise from the south and come west. Bipolar warriors heal with profligate abandon. And University Deans step into the war zone, to bring the scent of victory. I tell you a storm is coming!! And it shall be wondrous!! And it shall change the face of clone armies of greed, feending for the next nut, to spew relentless jism over single mothers working 3 jobs. For sons and daughters shall prophecy and the world will know revolution.