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We all have roots from seeds In and on the fertile soil of our lives Where we are planted to need The place we know as home to thrive Shaped and harvested we live to die As the grains of wheat and hay Kernels of corn, okra and dandelion greens In the grand yield of who we are each day But the winds kept blowing The rains never came There came a time when each of us Were drowned in dust and dirt filled air Cows could not feed their young, Where The trees were brittle the fruit bitter and bare The streams that ran full were dried and cracked The deepest wells were lifeless holes Bereft and forgotten while we broke our backs These futile times had taken mortal tolls For the winds kept blowing The rains never came Simple staples kept us alive with little trust The flour biscuits and gravy was our fate What was left in our pantry or scratched from the dust Was all we had to put on our plates With empty stomachs and lifeless eyes Trodden like fodder we carried our oppression With empty hands and useless tools we cried A pocketful of lint our soul possession But the winds kept blowing The rains never came All our kin pulled together with grit and gumption From this plague of slow starvation The hunger of our children and old folk’s consumption Entrusting our faith with our true salvation So farewell to our homeland that heaven forgot Mothers, fathers, grandma and grandpop We packed up our lives to leave our exhausted home Seeking our fertile soil for the seeds we need sown And the winds kept blowing No rains came We traveled hard on rough roads we were almost dead Loaded in the Ford that tilted with the weight Begging for the next penny for a loaf of bread Better than starving and accepting our fate Some people we met were friendly and kind Others greedy and mean folks would make fun of us We tried keeping our pride but there was none left to find Our bellies took over our hearts and fight we must For the winds kept blowing The rains never came We were preserved by dust and depression Our hearts that still clung together like prophets Raising our voices to recite our old confession Over stony roads we traveled hard with deep regrets With the scraps of coins jingling in our pockets of money We came with nothing except our will To the Golden State-the land of plenty, the land of honey To plant our seed to rise again our lives and hearts to fill For the winds kept blowing The rains never came I was born from the Dust Bowl From winds of extinction that took many lives Testing our spirit, our will, our soul The dust of change that shaped how we survived Bonded us strong as people together to make us whole Okies and vagrants plagued by nature’s demise Our tribulation, our faith shall not weather our souls The storms of life have set us free in our fathers and mothers eyes For the winds of kept blowing The rains never came
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