I see a touch of humor and a light here
in these eyes from so very long ago,
school aged man child-
what was it
those things you saw
that created in you the mind
that fought for many
and closing your eyes dying
while a world of people wept.
Who were his people,
not only those with the shades of skin he wore like a robe,
there were beside you those who look like me,
though I watched from afar
black and white images flickering,
still too young to know-
to be able to stand and fight
but was it his world at home in which he lived
that inspired such passion
such a noble and wise soul born
even as a seed
destined for greatness
before he could most likely read.
I wish I had known this young boy then
and later when his feet marched,
when the power of his voice shook with such conviction,
something these days so lacking-
I wonder what I would have asked,
perhaps what was it here
that made you smile as the shutter snapped
capturing a radiance
that still shines through
all these years gone by,
and have we indeed learned anything
from your wise, truth heralding words-
do we stand as you did
or do we turn and look the other way,
and what would have become
had you not slipped away
awash in a river of red
like a modern-day of his time messiah
teaching, believing, and never backing down.
Will there be another born,
or is he or she growing still-
to take up in the footprints
through word and steadfastness
walking in those shoes so large,
to become the voice
of today.
Peace, Love and Patchouli 