I Pray

Take me by the hand and lead me to your promised land
Show me things I've never known
Heal me so there's pain no more

Guide me through this tragic world
Shield me from its daily purge
Cover me with your life giving blood
Embrace me in your tender love

Build me up when I am weak...
to weak to stand; too weak to speak
Shake me lose from procrastinations' arms;
break me free from depressions' scars

Empower me through your Spoken Word
Enlighten me with your written verse
Lift me from earths decaying hold
Enfold me in warmth...in joy...with your simple touch

Teach me the patience to love and to...love
Create in me a heart that is clean and honest
and just as just and pure as yours

Wash me without and wash me within
Renewing, refreshing, rejuvenating, restoring
Awaken my soul to your hearts beating rhythm
I cherish,
I honor,
I worship,
I pray


By: Tarin Glenn-Brown
(c)2011

Liberty's Truth Defined

Their chains dragged despair from its bloodstained root

and carved a legacy built on hope and triumph

Their backs tracked by leather riddled scars of ignorance and fear

carried forward the strength of a generation born for greatness

Through sweat and tears, shed and unshed

and pain so unimanageable its memory lingers still,

they fought for the right to be seen and heard

With fist in air and voices united the songs of our past rang out loud and clear.

No longer bound by iron alone, flesh and blood cast their lot

to purge what was already clean and pure.

The earth cried out with each drop of blood shed;

each molecule absorbed into its bowels.

And yet the voices continued to rise; continued to swell

with the knowledge and pride of a people born from a generation of warriors and kings.

A nation of priests and artists.

A wellspring of musicians and poets who, through the power of a single ideal

forged a road from their past to our future; their vision to our reality

From the jailhouse to the death room.

From the shanty town to the presidential suite.

One man's blood became another man's freedom;

the blood of the slave for the blood of the free.

Through their secret tunnels; their spoken words;

their march to the martyrs drum

the forefathers of greatness gave birth to the sweet sweet melody

of life and love and liberty for all

By: Tarin Glenn-Brown

January 20, 2011 (c)