Here I Am

YE BRETHREN! Ye brethren! Cling not thy fist before evil Subvert not the smiles of the people Fasten the hearts of nations The children, the young, and the aged Find in thy heart The fruit of love to feed the lonely Provide to them, a gift from heaven Cover them in fine robes and clothing But unveil to thy heart, their feelings Let not this bare land be drunk in blood For it yieldeth no grey tree in bloody soil A sign of no prudence, no wisdom, no counsel But bloody trees Lighten the path of the blind Embrace both the wild and the mild Wipe the tears of they that mourn Refresh their hearts with songs of the beautiful morn Ye brethren! Fear not, stand firm! Stand firm, stand firm ye brethren! For a stormy wind cometh before thee Trace thy stands from the roots of the mightiest tree Stand firm, stand firm! Erode the fears of the little Pay less heed to the roars of a pistol Be thou, the voice of the mute Be thou, the ey...

THE STRENGTH OF A WOMAN These are the strengths revealed to me; The strength of a woman is feebleness The strength of ‘that' tree is fruitfulness The strength of evil is wickedness And the strength of the world is meaningless The strength of the heart is love Love within and love written above The strength of a king is happiness But the strength of a tear is bitterness The strength of the innocent is liberty And the strength of the ‘people' is unity The strength of nature is endowed with beauty The mind's will bears wisdom as its strength To rule mightily an empire, a state or a broad length The strength of a servant is humility Yet, the strength of an enemy is envy

THE EVE OF THE YEAR There is a rise of a new dawn A cry with a broad smile The dawn that lies between the eyes of nature Whereas my thoughts flow through my cells As my words are imprisoned in my brain Dark patches fall into my eyes Yet, I see clearly as the glassy sea surface The former has carried away my fears From my cloudy sight Flooded from the rains as tears under my eyes And the latter yields the fruits of my vine May GOD pour out my cup of tea Set my table without my enemies flee And set the sun on my table for me

DO THE HEART'S WILL The world bears the pace And it has began the race Bu I know not the type of mirror it would face; Success' or Failure's Do for the LORD as your heart speaks, rightly Not the mind Cos the heart has a probability of one or zero Yet, the mind is deceitful Do you know... That the mind thinks twice? The heart is not as dual as the mind It speaks out loud, clearly but once

FREEDOM Freedom is the key to captivity The ability to lose wisdom or gain insanity The pen is mightier than the sword So the use of a sword shows no creativity In the mind's own dictionary Freedom explains vocabulary without vanity That is as black as ebony, and a flash eyed eternity A man seeks freedom from his own mind He speaks strongly of his might Yet, he rests as a slave to his mind His brain is bonded in chains Restricting his intents to the clean bondage he resides But from the weathered ages, he retires Why are these people as blind a 'I'? It is hard to believe, but easy to see Freedom is what my heart speaks to seek But, it is on my knees I make the plea

CRAWLING OUT SLOWLY I stretched forth my hand toward my forehead "Whence my sight befall the extreme As my feet landed on waters?" Frozen as I floated The waters heated my feet Till I stole through sticky trees A wanderer as I am I held closely my sight As nature was compelled to pull me back In spite of the mutual defense I required Until my watch struck right There was nothing left for my heart to tell For its stories remained hidden For this my lone heart became coy Onward, the ground felt my foot By that step I took As winds blew vehemently and acrimoniously Through the deserts, arid rains and feathery winds As the bank of the Jordan Dry was my coy heart Behold, my sight was that I freed It came out of a prison's depth So it bore the light of the heights As it stilled the shadows And closely, I pushed them aside Suddenly, a flower rose a fruit With edges as the Mississipi's Driven out of sight, I halted to listen to its words ...

THE WORLD IS VANITY The strength of a man is as seven days He is so weak on his stands The world provides not a stage to mount Only for the tip of the iceberg to make a count A man can be wise in his ways But his thoughts can not be as the great king Solomon's It is in his fate that love is not an active race Rather, a passive pace for survival What differentiates the dead from the living When they both rest in darkness? So as I sought privacy I conceded privately The wise is foolish in his own ways Whereas the fool is wise in his own ways The world is vanity And so is he word One would rest till eternity in death's cold hands No matter the game one plays Or the card he displays The game would surely have an end Even the sun rises to set