Collected Poems

Beware, Soul Brother

We are the men of soul

men of song we measure out

our joys and agonies

too, our long, long passion week

in paces of the dance. We have

come to know from surfeit of suffering

that even the Cross need not be

a dead end nor total loss

if we should go to it striding

the dirge of the soulful abia drums….

But beware soul brother

of the lures of ascension day

the day of soporific levitation

on high winds of skysong; beware

for others there will be that day

lying in wait leaden-footed, tone-deaf

passionate only for the deep entrails

of our soil; beware of the day

we head truly skyward leaving

that spoil to the long ravenous tooth

and talon of their hunger.

Our ancestors, soul brother, were wiser

than is often made out. Remember

they gave Ala, great goddess

of their earth, sovereignty too over

their arts for they understood

so well those hardheaded

men of departed dance where a man's

foot must return whatever beauties