Torn From the Dark
(For James Byrd Jr. (1949-1998)
and Matthew Shepard (1976-1998)
October 15-17, 1998
There and everywhere, indifference is the spoiled
child pouting and weeping in the welkin.
We hope for a season - any season - of rain
to cleanse and comfort this planet-eater,
But the cauldron of stubbornness, loathing,
pride and betrayal all billow to stew than simmer.
We are deadwood to it, and with that, appalled
by reality's now. Chafe to repair this disregard.
Strangers as well as founders, we know the stream
of equality flows in favored paths and portions.
We bare it, the complacency, only for the striving
of hoping and knowing pacification will follow.
Feet are not rooted to the ground.
We will walk whenever, we will be wherever.
It is a long, turbulent trail, but know that contending
powers even the little shrew determined to make his way.
While on this odyssey, know that the
light - any light - is favorable,
But those who have been torn from the dark
had been shrouded ingenuously by an assailant's craft.
For those who are still here and fighting:
Revelation will revile the opposer. Stay quiet.
Be wary but not afraid of those Repairman.
who offer a fixing or a fix before a smile.
The chance to drive oneself away is a compensation
for the savage enclave.
We march onward. We are might. We are brave.
We will be weak, we will be depraved;
Our voices burn in sparks; as for being torn from the dark.
Life or not, a warmness and greatness awaits.
© 1998 Jarrod C. Lacy
Excellent poetry, Jerrod.
ReplyDeleteThank you greatly, Cynthia.
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