#45, April 10th, 2004

 

Easter 1911

 

(An arrangement of an editorial in The Crisis, Easter 1911)

 

The land lay smiling in spring splendor,

heavy with verdure,

gleaming with glad sunshine.

 

Athwart it

fell the dark shadow

of a toiling man,

great of limb

and black,

thick of countenance

and hardhaired.

 

His face was half-hopeless,

half vacant,

with only a faint gleam

of something dead

and awakening

deep in his deep-set eyes.

 

His feet were chained,

his neck yoked,

his body scarred.

 

They that had driven him

through the thick forest

threateningly

were now afraid of him:

they feared the reproach

of his dumb,

low-burning eyes;

they feared the half articulate sounds

from his moving lips,

and saw with terror

the slow, steady growth

of his body

that great,

black

undying body.

 

And so they conspired to kill him,

– lying to his ears,

crucifying his soul,

until he bent and bowed

and, heavy with his weakness, fell

laying his mighty length

in stupor along the earth.

 

And the earth trembled.

 

   Sweating

and deep of breath

the pale-faced murderers

worked and delved,

digging a cavernous grave

and walling it with Oppression.

 

Then shame-faced

yet grim,

they turned northward.

 

At daybreak

they stood upon the hills of God,

with faces white and good,

crying:

“Come, O brothers,

Northern brothers,

the thing that hindered our love is dead,

– dead, dead, long dead.”

 

The brothers of the North came trooping,

oily tongued,

unctuous and rich,

yet they of the North and South

looked not each other in the eye,

but slunk along false smiling.

 

One who was timid said,

“O, Brother South,

I hear the chains.”

But the South answered:

“Nay, that is the chiming

of Negro school bells.”

 

Yet another, quibbling,

found his mouth:

“Did the Thing die happy?”

The South choked and muttered:

“Happy, so happy,

and praising his Master,

beside his best friends.”

 

“But, Brother,

your hands are bloody,”

quavered a third.

“The blood of the offering

burned at the stake

for the culture and supremacy

of our noble race.”

 

Then hastily

the South said in a chorus,

as if to forestall reply:

“See where we have laid him,”

and they pointed to a grave

walled with Oppression.

 

But suddenly

the world was wings

and the voice of an Angel,

the Angel of Resurrection,

beat like a mighty wind

athwart their ears

crying:

“He is not here –

He is risen.”

 

Risen above half his ignorance;

Risen to more than infinite property;

Risen to a new literature

            and the glimmer of a new art;

Risen to a dawning determination to be free;

Risen to a greater ideal of humanity;

Risen to a just world where people can see.

 

© Rob Gregg, 2004