I
She stood
Straight backed
Whelming up
Against the currents
Of hateful disorder.
The Dowagers of Washington
Would have no nigger:
The Gauleiters of Salzburg
Felt the same.
Their halls were locked
To the untermensch
Their hearts were hardened
To Mendelssohn.
In the Mozarteum
In the Lincoln Memorial
She stood and sang
Her youthful features
Sharply carved against neglect.
II
Who is that apart
Divine and equal?
Who smote the fetid beasts
That crowd out civil speech:
These women
The Rosa Parks
The Faith Bandlers
Fleck our lives with deep belief
Dignified
Even as Menschenhass
Scours the world:
No wasteland engulfs them.
III
Swirling
Through those cold April winds
Courage and fear
Stalked the very dais
Of her invention.
Her rich voice
Rhapsodized
On forgiveness
And love:
In the darkness
That sweet true note
Reset the tide
The tears welling
Not to staunch the ugly trail
Nor end the canker of injustice
But drawing out its defeating strains
To launch the counter flow of human rights
That laps upon our current shores.
The blessed spirits still rise
And dance attendance
On the bravery, on the eloquence
Of her firm-willed stance.
Fear and faith begat those solemn words:
Mother of love
Who heals the pain
Sings out across our fissured world.
August 2020
Gar Jones
She stood
Straight backed
Whelming up
Against the currents
Of hateful disorder.
The Dowagers of Washington
Would have no nigger:
The Gauleiters of Salzburg
Felt the same.
Their halls were locked
To the untermensch
Their hearts were hardened
To Mendelssohn.
In the Mozarteum
In the Lincoln Memorial
She stood and sang
Her youthful features
Sharply carved against neglect.
II
Who is that apart
Divine and equal?
Who smote the fetid beasts
That crowd out civil speech:
These women
The Rosa Parks
The Faith Bandlers
Fleck our lives with deep belief
Dignified
Even as Menschenhass
Scours the world:
No wasteland engulfs them.
III
Swirling
Through those cold April winds
Courage and fear
Stalked the very dais
Of her invention.
Her rich voice
Rhapsodized
On forgiveness
And love:
In the darkness
That sweet true note
Reset the tide
The tears welling
Not to staunch the ugly trail
Nor end the canker of injustice
But drawing out its defeating strains
To launch the counter flow of human rights
That laps upon our current shores.
The blessed spirits still rise
And dance attendance
On the bravery, on the eloquence
Of her firm-willed stance.
Fear and faith begat those solemn words:
Mother of love
Who heals the pain
Sings out across our fissured world.
August 2020
Gar Jones