TO MY WILLED EBONY WORD FLOWERS
Tolling bells are ringing,
And mission purpose
Grows to its physical end:
Spiritual nourishment willed:-
Those who sow
Wisdom’s navigation
Will pass on and die,
But their Epistles
Will remain sermonic lessons
To be learned and actualized:-
While their white
Lettered paper, may yellow,
The inking will remain black;
Teaching those holy lessons:
Washing needed feet, surpasses
Bloody hand washings:-
Though death is inevitable,
Likewise, is the suppressed word
And the revelation of its enlightenment:
And though it may flow slowly,
It flows to the mind's deepest depth,
And its ascension of mind is limitless:-
May the coming tears for me,
Forever hydrate the word flowers
Who seeds I’ve sown and left behind:
That they and my spirit may bear fruits
With energizing juices, nourishing liberation.