Madiba

The dry grass bends in the scorching heat

But the human beings won’t stay neat

And the hidden drums thud a quickening beat

And the drumbeats cry of freedom!

Their sorrow speaks in a thousand tears

Of the pain they’ve borne for too many years

The black man’s torture and the white man’s fears

And the drumbeats cry of freedom.

They lock a man in a dark, dark place

They name his words as a deep disgrace

For they cannot bear to see his face,

And the drumbeats cry of freedom.

But who is prisoner, who is free

Where racism holds sovereignty

And hatred holds the mastery?

And the drumbeats cry of freedom?

Forgiveness comes at a costly price

But peace must make the sacrifice

Truth isn’t easy and it isn’t nice

And the drumbeats cry of freedom.

The man who conquers his heart’s rage

Is the man who steps up to the stage

For he’s walked the darkness and he’s paid the wage

And the drumbeats cry of freedom.

Barefoot Girls

This world is not quite safe for barefoot girls

Who long to wander in the dew-wet grass

And feel the flowing-skirted touch of life

Roam ankle-deep through seasons as they pass.

But, oh, there are sharp stones beneath my feet,

And thorns and thistles snapping at my heels,

And all the world would say shod is more sweet.

Must we wear armour in this untamed place?

Must I defend my steps with hard firm shoes?

Why can I not go dancing into light,

Twirling and whirling barefoot when I choose?

Only in Eden were such footsteps safe;

Yet I await that day of running free

When there is not a single shoe to see.

I will be dancer, He will be my dance.

I will be singer, He will be my song

I will step boldly on unfading grass

And all the wondering world will dance along.

Blessed are those who love

Blessed are those who love; the ones whose hands

Are opened wide, to give and to receive,

Who live embracing mercy every day,

Walking the wondrousness that they believe.

Blessed are those who love; who face their fear

And reach across the valleys of their dread

To touch another’s soul with gentleness

And speak the words of peace and grace instead.

Blessed are those who love; who turn aside

From every thought of envy’s dark dismay

And rather choose to cheer another’s joy,

And cast the self’s idolatry away.

Memoriam 11.11.2018

Stand here and pray for peace, while soft-voiced ghosts

Speak of a century of agony

In tones that must compel our deeper prayers,

They bore their part and suffered; they are we.

Stop the loud thunders, listen to their words,

And be ashamed of every careless thought,

The swift scapegoating of all otherness:

Have we learned nothing that their pain has taught?

Have we learned nothing down the long slow years?

Have we not learned that every man bleeds red?

While politicians arc their platitudes

Let us be ones that pray for peace instead.

Let us be peace in every day its breath,

Let us be quick to listen, slow to speak,

And reach out hands to give and bless and heal,

And grow an olive leaf for this dove’s beak.

She called me sister

You, who have suffered unthinkable things

From my race and my people;

The loss of your children and language,

The loss of your land and your culture,

The loss of hope

When greedy hands, white hands,

Snatched what they desired;

You, who have walked the path of Job,

Through loss and pain,

Loss and pain,

Loss and pain,

And darkness over the deeps;

You who were robbed,

By my kindred and my people,

The race by which I gain:

You called me sister!

This is the hospitality of Christ,

And to you I give my tears.

All Things New

Your people are broken, your people are aching,

Fragmented, confused underneath sin and death;

But you are our Father, who loves us forever,

And all the dry bones come to life at your breath.

Our tears become rivers of blood, burn like acid,

Corroding the heart and despairing the soul;

But you, our Redeemer have bought us, will keep us,

Your body was broken that we might be whole.

We flail in our weakness, collapse in the shadows,

Heart broken and helpless, know not what to do;

O Spirit of God, who gives life to the dying,

Look down on creation and make all things new.