Martin Luther King Day ~ January 18, 2010/edited

Oh, Lord,
God of my Being,
my feet are so tired.
I've walked tirelessly
in every
path, 
stood in every shadow,
crushed the violet
with my soles,

how long,
Oh Lord
must I march
without words,
so many prayers
for peace unanswered,
my heart a lonely
hunter, my hunger
a constant craving,
my life an always death
for want of freedom's taste,
a yearning:
honey
ghee and sweet milk

human kindness
spreading
like manna from heaven
to end all the
madness and
slaughter

the human jungle
of fear hides in the dark
long night--
hate
is a swirling sand
where hotels sail away,
concrete skyscrapers
meet Paradise
and the green of every living thing,
is the smallest candle of hope
that springs
eternal
in the Light of You

if only the bayonet
could grow daisies
while You and I
fall,
snowflakes into the silent
voice
that carried through
every nation's flag
pressed against the mouth
that bled into
The Promised Land,
that clasped
every hand
to form a welcoming heart.