Art of Justice

 

I chanced upon a once proud tree
All sliced and slaughtered on the shelf
At Southern Lumber Company
I heard its voice and found myself
Could I fulfill its destiny
To make its truth outlive its seeds  
And did I dare accept its plea
To chronicle the history

Of sacred songs of birds of peace
That nested deep within its reach

Of sons of slaves whose eyes reflect

The memory of noose on neck
Of troubled waters left to wade
From hell to hope to brighter days
Once proud trees whispered to me
That it needs to stand strong and bold again!

 Woodwordz!

To dream awake

To give more than I take

To represent truth in all that I create

To abstract...To free flow
To translate what tree seeds know
To talk with my hands

To reach deep like a drum
To make woodwordz outlive the seeds
Of the trees they came from
To speak bold and fluent wood
So my children's children

Will know where I stood!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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