For the New Torch Bearers

FOR THE NEW TORCH BEARERS (APROPOS MLK: 2) I have voyaged over many tempestuous oceans and seas; I have been pursued in woods by vicious dogs, Salivating stale slave smells left in hanging trees; Been hunted, trapped and penned like sliming wild hogs. I’ve waded rivers buoyed by the bodies of ancestors; My blood has caked on their banks in the golden dawn; Yet I’m still here; solid like a rock, standing in the mist Of our debtors; For I am the flaming spirit from the black phoenix’s spawn I am that everlasting arm of which the ancestors leaned Upon; I am that of which the ancestors long ago spoke; I am what sustained them during their bloody rebuke And lashing scorn; I am the anchor that strengthen them with an audacious And undying hope. So come chosen children; everybody gather here Around. Let us sit together talking and praying for a while. Like Papa, let us keep our eyes on the prize; gaze Not down on the ground. Raise high your heads: strutting down the blood stained freedom aisle. Listen children, the battle is not yet won; there’s still work left to be done. Girdle yourselves with an ebony pilgrim’s pride; girt The rising sun of new days begun. Rise up little children and give rebirth to the words The ancestors said; Rise up little children and cover yourself with the blood They have shed. Rise up little children and rip apart the new veiled shackles And invisible yoke; Rise up little children, raising your bright new torches Higher than everlasting hope: You are the new torch bearers of the dream; You are the new Martin Luther King.