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.
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