Appalachian Elegy

Folks from the backwoods were certain about two things: that every human soul needed to be free and that the responsibility of being free required one to be a person of integrity, a person who lived in such a way that there would always be congruency between what one thinks, says, and does.

bitter cold buries secrets

put away

all promises of resurrection

take the

hand-me-downs

make do

no culture of poverty

claiming lives here

we a people of plenty

back then

work hard

know no hunger

grow food

sew clothing

build shelter

moonshine still

wine from grape

we a marooned

mountain people

backwoods souls

we know to live on little

to make a simple life

away from manmade

laws and boundaries

spirit guides teach us

offer always

the promise

of an eternal now

they once danced

dreamed themselves

renegades roam here

fugitive longing

darker than night

glorious black bodies

enslaved

with no hope of

belonging

to land

in this new world

of white freedom and flight

some live to die

sleep with no dreams

some find ways

to unravel mysteries

threads of power and domination

a palimpsest of greed

they hope

and hope

for change

find homeplace inside

letting anguish bleed out

make way for new life

sunken faces

a collapsing gray

shutting down

still bodies

standing in doorways

sitting on

falling-down front porches

on crooked steps

cold now

bone upon bone

outsiders come

taking land

taking life

stripping removing destroying

mountains ravished

leaving in this corrupt wake

souls grieving

earth laments

cries out loud

that justice may come

that it is never too late

fly high

dreaming bird

higher and higher

on the wire of time

no road blocks

no stopping

to think through

why wings flap

what makes

the worthy soar

only this

pure heaven

right now

sky high

in the face of white cold

see past this

all-surrounding

whiteness

that beyond

there is hope

that sorrow ends

fierce unyielding winds

pressing pushing

against window glass

trees swaying

branches falling

chaos warning

of danger

she does not want

to cut them down

she does not want

to fear those mighty oaks

standing guard

for more years

than can be counted

strong roots sustaining life

holding back

the rush of time

let earth testify

they have the

right to fall

when life comes to an end

to move

in harmony with fate

there are altars

in these hills

organic monuments

calling the sacred

rock on which to stand

and know divine presence