(Standing not in shadows … )
Ode to Martin©
Abraham, Mahatma, Theresa, standing tall,
Giants, all, casting long shadows, ages-wide.
Martin, you’re there too, in place amongst,
Standing not in shadows, but side-by-side.
Martin, you’ve been away awhile now,
Away, much longer than with us, here.
Your legacy carved through stone, endures;
Ensures our memory remains crystal clear.
You took us to task for democracy promises,
Fought injustice, inequality, humanity crimes.
Citing necessity for change, hope’s potential,
Then paying the price, in tumultuous times.
Yes, your time with us here, oh so short,
A decision to leave us, not made by you.
Your departure that April day, oh so sudden,
But somehow, Martin, I think you knew.
You knew, when you told us of your Dream.
You knew, after seeing the Promised Land.
You knew, after reaching the Mountaintop,
Aware that freedom, death, go hand-in-hand.
Divine intervention, perhaps, sent you here,
Then, evil, its personification, in your stead.
We were warned, even afore your 39 years,
“April’s the cruelest month,” T.S. Eliot said.