Today I am an artist, blogger, author & speechwriter. Years ago my graphic art ambition was displaced by theology and altruistic service. Art became my pastime as visual images conceded to word pictures. I acquired Master’s & Doctoral degrees, spent 34 yrs as a pastor and 6 yrs as a denominational executive concluding in ‘08. My faith and principles remain firm as I paint and write. Now writing books, blogging and painting, speaking and travelling.
A Poem - This is not a partisan post or a political statement, but rather an expression of the tensions within an enormous population that seem to challenge the best intents of the founders of the United States. This is interpreted as sadness felt by the nation herself.
AMERICA’S WISTFUL MORNING SONG
If I had a soul it would be torn this year,
I am too large for that, too immaterial,
But I’m alive with raw emotions and proud.
My history, my heritage carved through chaos
Delivered me honourable and strong.
I should feel powerful today but I feel weak.
I’ve been the global helper of the feeble.
Today I’m frustrated with my own fragility,
Needing assistance, craving aid.
Not weak in assets, I am weak in will, cruelly disappointed.
Conflicted, bewildered, frightened as I’ve never been.
All my discoveries, my victories, my celebrations
Do not today alleviate my condition,
I’m torn on the inside, from the inside, ripped
As if warring with myself, out of control.
Odd to admit, I’m disoriented, my mind is spinning.
Good or bad, right or wrong, truth or falsehood,
I’ve been confusing them and now I am split,
Not knowing which way to turn, but must make a choice.
I ask myself “will I have a voice? Will liberty speak?
Will equality be fluent? Will life lecture death?
Will love be eloquent? Ever again? Will peace be persuasive?