AGENT OF CHANGE
During the Winter
Of your discontent
You crave
The warm embrace of Spring,
Knowing it will fade away to
The scintillating heat
Of Summer
But you need not worry.
No!
Because you know
Every hot Summer
Gives way to the
Coolness of Autumn
But as the seasons change,
So do you.
You think
You feel
You do
You ask yourself,
“Who am I?”
“What is my purpose
In life?”
When you ask these questions,
You expect a response,
But none is given
Poverty often denies you access
To prosperity
Each time, she asks,
“Can you spare a dime?”
You look into her blood-shot eyes,
And your shared silence becomes
A clarion call
You hear voices,
Those of the great African kings
Speaking to you
You hear the rhythmic beat of drums,
Encouraging you to dance
This is your moment,
Your chance to shine.
But do you change or
Do you remain the same?
Heroes have come.
Heroes have gone
But now you are being asked
To be something more
No one is asking you
To change the world
Change a life
And bear witness to the
Rippling effects
Of your sacrifice
THE WISE MAN SAY
Move forward then upward,
That’s what the Wise Man say
He said do this daily
And you won’t lose your way
But that’s just what you did
In the Spring of eighty-eight
For you found yourself carrying
A tremendous weight
Dreams of Olympic glory,
Adoring fans calling your name
But your ailing body
Disqualified you from the game
You had to find something different,
Something new
You had to behave differently
To say that you grew
But grew you did
You had no choice
First in your family
To heed the Wise Man’s voice
His voice was loud,
His voice was clear
You felt his presence,
Drew the invisible him near
Clouds of doubt, uncertainty
And regret hovered overhead
Sinking feelings that could only
Be described as impending dread.
You know why this feeling
Inhabits your soul
Anxiety, depression,
Taking a toll
Roll, Daddy, roll
Like never before
Step into a future
That is bright, not a bore
Forward then upward
The Wise Man say
To keep this train a moving
You have to bow your head,
pray
Pray for blessings
From the man seated on high
When you receive these blessings
You aren’t supposed to cry
But when you do
Reflect on the road traversed,
Receiving the many blessings,
Never believing you were cursed
The Wise Man stands on the horizon
Marveling at all you have done
To overcome obstacles
To stand in the sun
He winks his eye
Only you can see
You bow at the waist
Thanking him,
Then God,
For this victory
At the apex of Achievement
You gain wisdom and sight
For you now know obstacles
Are there for knowledge, might
But you must extend your hand
To the hungry, the lost
Pull them up gently,
Remove them from the frost
J. A. Faulkerson, a Northern Virginia-based author, poet, and screenwriter by night, moonlights as a fatherhood engagement coordinator by day. His poetry pays homage to the Black leaders of the Civil Rights Movement of the 1950s and ‘60s, individuals he calls compassionate neighbors led by the unconditional love and neighborly compassion. A graduate of Dobyns-Bennett High School (Kingsport, Tennessee) and the University of Tennessee (Knoxville, Tennessee), J. A. has been happily married to his wife for over 32 years and is the proud father to his 21-year-old son. Follow J. A. Faulkerson on Instagram. Subscribe to his newsletter, “Writers’ Bloc with J. A. Faulkerson.”
Featured image: “A Collection of Ethiopian Liturgical Drums” by A. Davey under the Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic license.
