Freedom

Freedom

On this strange terrain,

Racked with heartache and pain,

Shackle and chain,

Binding our feet and hands,

But not our brain!

Surrounded by foe or friend?

Behind we left our native land,

Whence God fashioned aboriginal man.

Forced to live in an alien place,

Where enslaved men pace,

With grief on each face,

Classified inferior to cattle.

Lashed by whips; no energy for battle,

Obligated to feed with hogs and pigs,

Or suck nutrition from edible twigs.

Sun up ‘til sun down required to toil,

Masters ignore natures’ spoil.

Examining the forest with hopeful hearts,

Planning an escape to freedom.

When can we start?

Proficiently observing North Star’s light,

Cautiously selecting the precise night,

Men, woman, and children start the flight,

Pressing forward; never looking back,

Skillfully covering each track,

On and on we go.

Never stopping for rest nor walking slow,

Straight ahead a village we see,

Perhaps a place of refuge for you and me,

Greeted by a compassionate unique race,

With expressions of concern,

And sincerity on each face,

Sharing honesty, love, and respect.

An alliance we make free of deceit or regret,

Side by side, united we stand.

Hand in hand with indigenous nations,

Born on Turtle Island; their sacred land.

---Ruby Lee Whitehurst

Copyright © 2003 by Ruby Lee Whitehurst