With Eyes Stayed On the Prize

Out of you and me, The colors of our skins And our humanity, Comes the scarred history Of the home of the brave And the land of the free; Where it always was held true That in you and by you— And only for you—all men [of your hue] were created equal. Indeed. Said the darker hued Were merely aped to be manlike That the icon of the new nation— Slavery and the pursuit of happiness— Could be perceived as that negative goodness That only servitude and meek humility could bring. What deed could be more gracious? Snatching savage beasts from a darken land; Cultivating them to be docile beasts of burdens In a bright new world—Slavery—the common good! But time is a funny thing. When it passes, It still leaves its footprints behind. Dark hued Ancestors are gone; but their audacity remains Showing and leaving heirs what new tormentors Will never ever see—what their eyes were watching. What our ancestors saw, our eyes are now stayed upon. Contrary to skewed belief, we too, were created In the egg of life—laid free in history’s nest—incubated. Now pecked free, we come laying our claim to the vision. Freedom is not a human gift. With eyes stayed on the prize We now come laying our claim to the liberating promise of God.