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Poem

Cecil, when I heard your voice this morning
I felt the strength of former days
A Samson captured but strength returning
To shout aloud Creator's praise

It has not been easy these immigrant years
So far from the honeysuckle and the sun
All the Atlantic ocean salts with African tears
And carcasses of all who time has out run

The wind and tides forever moves this way
Going back has been a long hard to climb
Our needs are our Delilah night and day
No jaw bone here only apostasy in the prime.

So when you spoke nephew, I heard Horeb
Speaking truth to me again, the blindness
Of my fear peeled off, and our great Caleb
In deeds, echoed through my lonely wilderness

O Cecil, thanks for reminding me who I am
For calling me home from the Philistine's land
Enough to know there is a blood spattered lamb
Cheering for me as now I make my final stand.

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