Rubbing The Sleep Of Dr. King's Dream From Our Eyes

Published 3:52 pm Thursday, January 17, 2013

A man of peace.

A topographer of dreams.

Cartographer of mountaintops calling.

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Map-maker of an American promised land.

The heart of reconciliation across generations and time.

A prophet's voice.

Love's articulation.

An inflection in the direction of our new skin.

A pigment of our collective imagination.

No colors.

All colors.

The rainbow after flood.

Humanity breathing deep to exhale intolerance into the wind of change.

Tears down his cheeks.

Broken hearts mending.

Words spoken, given deliverance, behind bars.

Syllables soaring beyond the jailer's key.

All of us unlocked.

Walking with each other toward freedom.

Our feet bare, feeling every nuance of the journey with our soles.

Our footsteps following in the wake of the dream he gave us until all that defies the dream is left in our wake.

Left in our awakening to the truth that we are his dream coming true.

Finding its face in our reflection.

Our fingerprints everywhere.

The final touch.

Human together.