A poem I wrote during solitude time at Callaway Gardens… during the New Testament class.
I heard the Voice of One Man Crying
I heard the voice of one man crying
And in that voice the agony and screams of a multitude
Without number, black, white, yellow
Crying under the weight of oppression
An unseen groan, bending the ground beneath them,
And the wood behind him.
Such pain
All attention was fixed on him
All history
Past
Present
Future
Focused on one hope, one chance
The only chance
And suddenly the cry ceased.
In that one silence, the silence of a multitude
The pain of thousands
Cold encircled him, and fear them.
His hand releasing, receiving
His pain outpouring
His blood flowed over the multitude
They partook of his pain
And became whole in Him
I saw light emanating from that darkness
From one man, touching every feature of the multitude
No longer trapped in pain
No longer flooded with dispair
No longer covered in blood
As beautiful and white as snow.
I heard the voice of one man crying
Yet in that cry the songs and joy of a multitude
Without number, black, white, yellow
Singing the songs of freedom
An unseen hope lighting the ground beneath them
And the sky behind him
Such love
All attention was fixed on him
All history
Past
Present
Future
Focused on one hope, one chance
Taken
Taken
Given
I heard a voice of one man singing
And in that joy, the songs of a multitude.
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