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The sugarcane fields once a binding chain, 
Where generations toiled in sun and driving rain. 
A promised land, it seemed, for those who came in faith,
But shadows lengthened and hope began to chafe.

The whispers grew to shouts, a bitter angry sound, 
As those who chose to leave on hostile ground were found. 
The union's iron fist, a grip of fear and scorn, 
For those who dared to break away, and greet a different morn.

Accusations hurled like stones, a wall of bitter words, 
"Disloyal!" they were branded, like wayward, straying herds. 
"Against the brethren's unity!" the angry voices cried, 
For Church forbade their joining where worldly rules preside.

Their choices questioned, motives cast in doubt, 
As hatred simmered and resentment poured out. 
The weight of disapproval, a heavy toll to bear, 
For seeking solace elsewhere, a different path to share.

But still they walked, heads held a little higher, 
Their inner compass guiding, fueled by a stronger fire. 
Obeying higher tenets, a spiritual decree, 
They traded earthly conflict for faith and unity.

Then came the whispers, a stirring in the soul, 
A yearning for true freedom to make spirits whole. 
Like ancient Hebrews under Pharaoh's heavy hand, 
A quiet exodus began across the burdened land.

No parting waters, no pillar in the cloud, 
But a shared conviction spoken not aloud, 
A silent understanding in the depths of every heart, 
To seek a new beginning, a brand new hopeful start.

They carried little but the strength of their belief, 
A unity unwavering, a solace in their grief. 
Leaving behind the furrows, the memories and the years,
Trading earthly burdens for faith that conquers fears.

Each step a testament to courage born of need, 
A planting of new seeds, a breaking of the creed 
That bound them to the soil in endless weary days, 
Towards a brighter future in God's unwavering ways.

Like pilgrims journeying with purpose clear and bright, 
They sought a promised haven bathed in spiritual light. 
A testament to spirit when earthly ties grow weak, 
The power of conviction, the solace that they seek.

So let the story echo of those who chose to rise, 
To lift their weary spirits towards more hopeful skies.
An exodus of conscience, a journey born of grace, 
Seeking a true freedom in a more sacred space.

©bfa040825
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