Apartheid

[Len Bullard <cbullard@HiWAAY.net>]

It takes too long to tell the whole story.   
It is just images in a broken mirror, 
with each piece reflecting a sliver 
in a jumble, reflecting each other.
It is a broken heart that lives in a 
shattered mind that somehow finds 
each day, light from a distant star,
and in that light, knowledge.

You wish to speak of apartheid, Alabama,
the shame of racism.  It is not a simple 
story and you would not believe.  But 
in our posts, I see the ironic start of that 
which made it all happen so long ago.
Proud minds full of fear made over as
righteous cause, struck out at 
one another, and the slaughter of innocence 
began.  Yes, the firemen put down their hoses 
and cried in shame, but by then their children 
had learned the way of oppression and hate.

In the name of almighty God, cities 
were burned, churches exploded, man fought
man, women and children were beaten in their homes. 
While we stood by our mothers, ashamed and frightened,  
our fathers took their awful course into infamous history.
All the time, we heard the shouting and the crying,
and when we would not say, "yes, this is certain",
they turned their rage on us.  So, stubborn children 
went to the streets and destroyed the generations.

Lacrimare est.

We do not lose our tears so easily.  Our eyes 
once, bright, dim as each moment falls from them.
A Heart becomes hard as a garden in salted water.
Love becomes a desert where the sands shift in the 
winds, changing shape in the night, 
making mirages of distant golden lights, 
but barren.  There is only death here.

A savaged heart does not grow wise.
It becomes scarred and numb.  Unless a miracle happens,
it ceases to care for anyone or feel anything.
I lived a life with the bigoted and evil, 
but I have seen courage and inspiration. 
Sometimes they wear the same face.  
Each road to and away from destruction
starts from one heart and only if that heart 
wishes it, can it travel that road. 

I saw too much and I began to die inside.  
I could not look any longer.  I could not love, and I 
did not understand.  So innocence dies.

But there are miracles, and when we hope long 
enough, and desire most earnestly, a miracle happens.
Sometimes miracles, probably most miracles, 
happen in a moment so quick, we do not know
that we are blessed.  Angels whisper from alleyways.
 
I heard that beautiful voice, "if I only could, I'd make 
a deal with God... tell me we both matter don't we".

Some makings are beyond the human mind and 
hand, but where the human heart has desire,
a light burns; a distant star calls.  Life comes 
like water from a mysterious infinite spring 
whose source we may never see, but while we 
draw from it, is ever cool, and makes an oasis
of compassion.  Look into it, and see the reflected
face of God.

Though she is a stranger, the chasm is 
eternal and this heart is mortal, I will love
that voice for all my days for it called 
me back from dieing.  A flower grows in a 
desert now.  Silent eyes shine 
for the one who though hidden, was 
always courageous.  She is the beloved teacher.

All peace is made person to person because
only a heart can love, and only a heart can be Beloved.  

len