heart heavy as his country faded
His shoreline replaced by one far away
Days of discomfort and strife
Hungry, beaten, robbed of his life
Treated as livestock, meat for sale
Reduced to headcount, his soul grew pale
The long days at sea finally passed
The new home reached at last
Uncertainty and fear his companions now
Sold to rich men, but poorer than he
Placed on the platform for all to see
Bids placed on the man so strong
No smile for the price, no soul of the man
Body purchased and nothing more
The buyers cared not but for profit and use
The soul not of the bargain made
This gentle giant with so much to add
Stood motionless with heart so sad
Sold and purchased as merchant’s wares
The property of genteel men with hearts of stone
Branded and named with no care for the man
Only muscles to them, a working machine
Life was hard, the days were long
Picking cotton in the Carolina sun
Side by side with his new family of slaves
Spirit intact and returning to life
They sang as they toiled
And spoke of days gone by
Telling stories of their homeland
And dear ones left behind
The days passed, the years quickly too
John Henry grew older and slower
No longer the machine his owners once prized
Just an old man they had come to know
The plantations thrived under John Henry’s toil
Time permitted the landlords to know him well
They could not help but admire the man
Who, through the suffering and labor, stood so tall
His spirit and goodness caused them to pause
And reflect on this giant soul of a man
Even shame sought refuge
As they compared them to him
Come one fine summer day
When John Henry could arise no more
The labor and sadness taking their toll
From the man stolen so very long ago
The master came to his bedside
To say farewell to his aged property
Humbled by one of greater character
He now cried for both souls
John Henry looked on his captor from death’s door
Granting him the smile denied before
For a moment before he returned home
Brothers but for an instant
Then John Henry was no more
From the poetry collection Common Ground
Shows to Go You
I am reminded of a story, heard on television of all places.
I have turned it to the poet’s quill and here is how it goes:
A man waited on his rooftop
As the water rose round his home
He waited for God to rescue him
A small boat came by
And offered the man a ride
Yet he said, No thank you
I need no place to hide
A larger boat came roaring up
To offer the man some help
Yet he said, No thank you
I wait for my Savior to arrive
Soon, a helicopter flew over
And supplied the man a rope
Yet he said, No thank you
I haven’t yet given up hope
The man drowned
And left for the pearly gates
And said, when he saw Jesus
What the hell, you were much too late!
Jesus said what’s the deal?
I sent several to delay your fate
It just shows to go you, fixed beliefs can ruin your day.
From the poetry collection Simple Gold
My Captain’s Door
Waves are hitting hard
And tossing our ship about
The storm attacks us harshly
The fear begins to mount
The crew is less together now
Allowing fear to push apart
Maritime brothers we were
Seeming less so now
The time to pull together
Most needed in moments of peril
No other recourse given
That
