The Coming of Black Jesus

THE COMING OF BLACK JESUS From out of dark of Africa and from the central plain beyond the Nile, in just a while black gold, and all its gain lay shackled in the morning sun, humanitie's great sin, they wait in tears for what seems years for whaleboats rowing in. Financing by the usurers, who'd make a pot of gold, each trip to Africa was blessed, by those who'd not have blessing told. Once on the beach, the boats are filled and slavery steers the coarse out to the ship that makes the trip and filled with black's remorse. The teaching to their heathen minds sets in before the sail is barely set so they can get the Word before they fail. the Word that Jesus died for them so now they must rejoice and sing His song their lifetime long His way's their only choice. The sail is pushed across the sea and changed, their native speech, through heat and rain and hurricane, then hope is in their reach; when one bright morn "land ho's" proclaimed they fall down to their knee to spread His fame, and praise His name who Saved them from the sea! And when the anchor's heaved away to hold the ship in place; off from the shore they've been bound for; forgiven's their disgrace and all the old ways ever known are laid into the past replaced on ships by snapping whips before the captain's mast! And so they're sold before they're old, mere beasts of burden, black and cold, while Jesus saves them, every one, .......if they do what they are told. © Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet aka Ron Wilson