Notes About The Poem

IN AND OF SPELLBOUNDING AWARENESS

 

Pondering the journey,

It was as if God had

Put a spell on us

Until reality revealed

The truth of glorifying

Awareness of holy blessings

Of faithful determination

To mount the bucking

Stallion of oppression

And break out 

Of the shackled corral

That fenced us in,

Without justice, equanimity,

And freedom,

Giving the devil power

To abort laboring birth

Of our liberation:-

 

Enlightened, we‘re now galloping,

With charioting forces

Over mountains, rivers, and seas,

Roping and challenging

All past and present vestiges,

Of that particular institution

That once imprisoned

Our ancestors,

And we shall no longer

Be victims of the shadowed spell

Cast upon us 

By the devil’s wickedness,

For we are freed

From his mental shackles

And now control

Our own destiny

To justice and 

Liberty:- 

 

Indeed, “...a new natural mystic 

Is blowing..."

And we are breathing

The air of its liberation,

Energized and directed

With audacious power—

Within and without—

To demonstrate and prove

That our Black Lives Matter

To us and the world;

For a new day 

Is upon the horizon

With the rising sun

Arching Earth’s skies

With rainbowing liberation:-

 

So, wake up, America!

A new mystic air is blowing,

And there is no mountain

So high

Or valley so

Low

Where bigotry

Racism and fascism

Can hide or abide:

Where the air is filled

With awareness,

Peace and love,

Fools of darkness,

And oppression,

Cannot breathe:-

On earth, God rules,

Heals and chastises,

Leaving fools roaming aimlessly

In the confusion down yonder:

Unmasked in the heated slime

And fumes of His retribution:-

 

Thus, let us not be spellbound,

But nourish in the wisdom of

Of the truth: “Be not deceived;

God is not mocked…whatsoever 

A man soweth, that shall he reap.”

Let us continue to struggle

With audacious, triumphant faith

With our eyes stayed on the prize—

Sipping from the saucer of grace—

As our cup of grace continues to overflow

From generation to generation to come:-




 

IN AND OF SPELLINGBOUNDING AWARENESS

IN AND OF SPELLBOUNDING AWARENESS

Pondering the journey,
It was as if God had
Put a spell on us
Until reality revealed
The truth of glorifying
Awareness of holy blessings
Of faithful determination
To mount the bucking
Stallion of oppression
And break out 
Of the shackled corral
That fenced us in,
Without justice, equanimity,
And freedom,
Giving the devil power
To abort laboring birth
Of our liberation:-

Enlightened, we‘re now galloping,
With charioting forces
Over mountains, rivers, and seas,
Roping and challenging
All past and present vestiges,
Of that particular institution
That once imprisoned
Our ancestors,
And we shall no longer
Be victims of the shadowed spell
Cast upon us 
By the devil’s wickedness,
For we are freed
From his mental shackles
And now control
Our own destiny
To justice and 
Liberty:- 

Indeed, “...a new natural mystic 
Is blowing..,
And we are breathing
The air of its liberation,
Energized and directed
With audacious power—
Within and without—
To demonstrate and prove
That our Black Lives Matter
To us and the world;
For a new day 
Is upon the horizon
With the rising sun
Arching Earth’s skies
With rainbowing liberation:-

So, wake up, America!
A new mystic air is blowing,
And there is no mountain
So high
Or valley so
Low
Where bigotry
Racism and fascism
Can hide or abide:
Where the air is filled
With awareness,
Peace and love,
Fools of darkness,
And oppression,
Cannot breathe:-
On earth, God rules,
Heals and chastises,
Leaving fools roaming aimlessly
In the confusion down yonder:
Unmasked in the heated slime
And fumes of His retribution:-

Thus, let us not be spellbound,
But nourish in the wisdom of
Of the truth: “Be not deceived;
God is not mocked…whatsoever 
A man soweth, that shall he reap.”
Let us continue to struggle
With audacious, triumphant faith
With our eyes stayed on the prize—
Sipping from the saucer of grace—
As our cup of grace continues to overflow
From generation to generation to come:-
Copyright © | Year Posted 2025

Poem

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