We were herded off the boat in pairs, like animals been led from the ark, except this wasn't the promise land, at least not the land of our promise. After many moons on the floating box, with the rank odor of our fetid stink that could not mask the putrid funk of the barbarians that held us captive, we were grateful for land. They spoke in guttural barks and screeching snaps and I am sure they considered themselves civilized, but I could tell that most of them were unlearned. They lacked any of the accouterments of true breeding and carried themselves as brutish louts, with little understanding of true civility. As I stood in the sun and watched them knowing they thought me less, I thought them poor. As a leader of the tribe I was gifted with the insight into the souls of men and these people as they paraded around in their layers of cloth and overpowering perfume carried a darkness in them more malevolent than any seen before. Could it be that simply the color of their skin weakened the caliber of their mind? How else could one explain the horrific foreboding that assailed me as I stood on the cusp of coming storm. Nevertheless, I knew that they would be surprised by the outcome, thinking us weak we would prove indomitable. Thinking us less we would prove more. Beating us down we would arise as ebony stars to guide a lightless world.
I actually can imagine what is was...but they could not have imagined the outcome!
HOPE
Hope is
the faint glimmer of sight
the promise of light
of revelation
of open understanding
of truth
behind clouds hidden now
but later revealed
It is not a know
or an actual drop
no water in the desert
it is the distant mist
a hint of moisture
where none exist
a longed for sight
now real
now true
I can touch you
I can feel you
I am
You are.
I love this clip from the Shawshank Redemption...no infringement of copyright intended.
HOPE...
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