Rain

© 29 October 2008, The Griot Poet

I hear the coming sound of rain…

Rain touches my face
after 40 years of wandering the Wilderness of Sin – lynch ropes to frighten us from education, beatings for votes, bombing churches and buses, police batons, German Shepherds, pressure hoses, poll taxes and marching – round and round Mount Sinai,
outside the Promised Land promised by
Moses


who had "been to the mountaintop"
and prophesied
his own demise
but that you and I
Vickie
would see
this Promised Land.

But, we were "as grasshoppers" in our own sight
and we assumed, those of our adversaries,
those that would use devils devices
and apothecary
to defame
a new Joshua
that would refrain
a hope that the slaves
of previous generations
could not conceive
because their yoke
could only be thrown off
by a "renewal of their minds"

for in the economy of God
what is unseen is more real
than Wall Street

Main Street
is under His sovereignty and
CEOs
His feet.

Your husband and your children
rise up and call you blessed,
and you are the wife
dressed in white
of Leon's youth.

What the world will see
is what you have taught
the fruit of your womb
that when they are old
"they will not depart from it"

for we/they are this new
generation

that finally emerges
from this Wilderness of Sin
into a future
of

HOPE.

For Mrs. Vickie Nowlin’s birthday, NC A & T Alumni, English Major, Principal, and friend (I was best man in their wedding)...

James 5:7 "Be patient therefore, brethren, unto the coming of the Lord. Behold, the husbandman waiteth for the precious fruit of the earth, and hath long patience for it, until he receive the early and latter rain."