Wings

Wings

 

     Those walls could have been

A hundred feet tall,

No, a thousand feet

With every inch taken like breath,

And I’m sure the humility behind them,

The exhaustion to climb them,

Would take the deepest intake of air,

     Still,

No walls knew this man,

No walls could keep

Boundaries of forfeiture

To see the stars tumble

From looking on in despair,

     And

Shining like moonbeams,

His sense knew fast his

Own nation while time

Kept slow,- the count to freedom,

And he,

Never once gave up

The dreams of his peoples,

Never once through the darkness

And dankness of cells,

Gave in to the maddening

As they summoned his name!

 

     They walk amongst us,

Tired in rags hopeful of futures

Where peace invades all,

And we never knowing

Look upon while glowering

The disparity of Earth,

As destiny predicts

Disbelievers as fools,

But every once in a while,

As clocks dictate their own rhythm

To an incarcerate life,

There becomes the light

We all seek through guidance of angels,

And ‘they’ walk amongst us,

And stay without wanting

Till the end of Each World.

 

     Can you tell yet,

By the way we all look upon

In awe,

Can you tell who is here

By each of our side,

Drawing our lungs

To take in the air,

Have you seen the Man grumble

At all from the walls climbed in sorrow?

My guess is no-one would dare!

 

    (If man were – king,

Then he’d be a Saint),

But ask and he’ll deny

That it’s so,

For twenty-seven years

They’d bargain he’d crush,

But the walls were the illusory

He never believed,

And his eyes be wide

And sparkle like diamonds

At the joy of his children,

And all be his children

If asked just so,

And those walls,

Those walls remain jealous

Of truth in his spirit,

And we’re all grateful

For walking the same globe.

 

What makes ridicule

Of men, is not the denial of strength

They may have,

But becoming the weak –

To build the walls high,

Tempting a denial

Of humanity its spirit,

And while the last iconic figure

Feels the twilight take hold,

Robben Island sits solemn,

Unsure of tomorrows

And all done in the past,

While the stars welcome home –

A Man worthy of God.

 

Michael J Waite 2013.

◄ The Dying

PLAYING POKER ON TRAINS ►

Comments

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Isobel

Sat 7th Dec 2013 09:35

Lovely tribute Mike.

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Le3s Smith

Fri 6th Dec 2013 00:42

How beautiful.

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