I've been playing with a poem, far too long to post in full, for some time. Anyway here is an extract. This is a conversation with the first person Pilgrim meets on her journey:
All round the dress near to the ground,
A purple stripe wound right around,
‘Look close’ she said, I said ‘I see
Golden figures in Tennessee,
A shape within a mothers womb,
Deep shades of love and shades of gloom,
I see cruel chains round God made feet,
Loud cries to God and summer heat,
Small acts of kindness, a child sweet,
I see your life, and then I see,
All chains fall off, you standing free’
'That is my tale
Many are common on the earth,
And few are of a royal birth,
I was not. Nothing did I own,
Not my flesh, my blood, my bone,
I was ripped from my mother’s breast,
My days were bound I found no rest,
Deep in the south I worked the field,
Through blood and sweat they gave their yield,
But though my moisture fed earth,
It was not mine, but just my work.
Through prayers to God I touched ‘The Free’,
Now here I’m free eternally.’
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