Black Poetry : theology...thank you LORD


Well-Known Member
Mar 19, 2001
Baltimore, Md.
Teacher of English, Literature & Poetry
My feet are hardened from the
path I walk; journey’s long and
harsh yet I traverse;

i am faithful...

I continue through the wilderness
following the fire in the sky, that
light from afar, the star that led a
triune of wisdom to a new born carpenter.

A carpenter of old who takes wood (humanity)
and forms it into a new creation.

my journey keeps me thinking...

How ironic, a man so great, born in
a manger [wooden] died on a cross
[wooden] is the only one to see he
left this world the same way he came?

I am astounded...

I think about a man brave enough to stretch
his arms wide, blood dripping from his wounds,
suffering for me yet, everyday, the words
I say, the things I do, the places I go
could reopen those wounds healed by grace;

I am ashamed..

I cringe when I see Christian laden
carnality stepping its way into my
life judging me with the same wood
they used to judge others?

My peers have been blinded by their own
splintered covered veil as they beat me
with words till I bleed from within.

I fight back...

i refuse to be their victim so when
I grab their plank I find my wounds
healed; the blood that drips from this
stick of judgment is 2000 years old;

i endure...

My persecution is constant, but I
fear not for my Spirit is reclaimed
and my soul is restored;

Now I see that I no longer walk where I
want and do what I choose for I am led
as one in the herd constantly looking up
to be comforted by the sight of the shepherd.

I thank God for the sacrifice


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