John Gregory Evans
© 2019

It
remains not mine to say whether I would pity a colorful word of verb and noun, or,
from where it may come, or the color of its skin, for I have seen the Lord,
and, know him to be of spirit not acquainted with such superficialities. I
believe in you O soul of the deepest of transparent hearts, only to reach out
in love for our lovers with skin as dark as the night. The ocean is deep, and
so may a man’s heart burn in love for his neighbor of color and his words that
reflect a right to truths the earth refuses to hear.

I
become saddened in knowing the earth was in despair, and know from whence it
came, where colonial powers for a haughty jurisdiction influenced only by fear lingers,
why, I hear my brother’s cry, not at a distance…