#PoemADay No.80: It'll Be Alright.
The pen freezes when there is no rage in me
to boil the ink.
God forbid I ever create war or pain
or shame or give myself a reason to bleed
where none need be.
Do sunny evenings and calm springs,
hyacinth petals posing in the cool breeze,
does the groove of peacetime
and guilt-free laughter
and goofy kids on suburban streets
and the pulse of urban buzz--
do none of these gems deserve to make space
in the haunted cabins of my mind?
I ask myself,
who is your God?
Is He nothing but shattering moons and midnight?
Nothing more than a right hand and a flood?
Did He not turn water to wine?
Five loaves and two fish to too much?
Surely He rose again to do more than just battle,
surely it is finished implied that He has no rivals,
and that you have no right to grieve more than you rejoice
or fight before you crack a joke,
my nigga loosen up.
Control belongs to One.
Devil may cry out for your mind to meditate
on the crime, the blind, the demons dressed like deacons,
but control belongs to Jehovah.
So dance without ceasing.
Sing without thinking.
Victory is not a bet,
it’s a foregone conclusion.
The darkness will have its day.
Your sword must stare it in the face.
But don't forget who owns the lake,
who knows the date and gave us grace
to live while we wait.
Relax the mind.
It's okay to open the gate and let in the light,
let the darker things feel the sting of Sonshine.
The war will still be there tomorrow,
so for today, smile,
because you are redeemed,
because it’ll be alright.
Joy is not icing on the cake.
It’s your right.