I wish I had the prose
Of Henry David Thoreau
And walking was my Way
To see the Wild run and play
Then Nature would be my place
To receive manna and grace
Growing my spirit wide and deep
From her food and sleep
Perhaps, I’d be quiet and still
To practice the skills
Of laying down
Digging in the ground
Drinking from streams
Inspiring my dreams
Smelling the soil
Recovering my senses
Opening my hand
Becoming defenseless
With The Genius I’d freely stand
And Saunter through this barren land
As Truth shaped and filled my soul
My mind and mouth would overflow
Great wisdom I would know
Perchance, I would write fast
And learn to live slow
Just like Henry David Thoreau.
I wish I had the chagrin
Of one Dane named Soren
I bet his purity of heart
Would give me a running start
To take the leap of faith
And imitate the God-man To avoid the hypocrisy
Of Christendom’s clan
It was the existential madman
Who cast aside his pseudonym
To take on the church
And Hegel’s little system
Maybe if I were like him
I’d too be an outcast
With only Truth to outlast
This age’s drunken order
Because I was able To finally get sober
Like the great Fork
I would drive a spoke
Into the heart of sin
Wielding my mighty pen
Refusing the spotlight
So I can hide in plain sight
With fear and trembling
Soren made us aware
The Sickness unto death
Was indeed, despair
Likewise, Christian scholarship
Does not imitate The Word
Rather it is the works of faith
And the virtue of the absurd
Though he showed no care . That he was bullied by the Corsair Instead, he proved one could bear A most humiliating affair
Soren stood alone
Drawing distinctions in the sand
I want to be like him
Always writing
Til the end
Still fighting.
I want to be brave like Frederick Douglass
When it doesn’t make sense
To know that life is worth the struggle
Though you’re suffering great offense
Douglass fought evil’s snare
By knowing his currency
Wrestled against devils and demons
While hungry and thirsty
I want to speak like the Great Lion
Though I know not his pain
But how can one be like the North Star
Unless they’ve drank deeply from life’s vein
How does such suffering not turn to hate?
How does pain not turn to bitterness?
How does one’s heart not turn to stone?
How does a tortured body find rest?
It’s a mystery that I cannot comprehend
When I read the story written by him
One of miracle and of mystery
A free soul lifted up
To change history.
I wish I had the wee moed
Of Vincent Van Gogh
Who followed the call
To paint through woe
Though he tried to preach
He was scorned by men
So into nature he went
To become her best friend
To the world he was an outcast
When the narrow path he committed
With his brother by his side
He looked to heaven and lamented
Pleading to be known
Begging to be seen
The wisp of smoke rising
From someone so obscene
Daring to dream
Following Nature long and far
Wanting to see her dance
In the field and twinkling star
Van Gogh was so broken
A busted wine skin
Full of divine understanding
Looking behind the veil
He was crushed by holiness
And transformed to be the place
Where God, we see and taste.
I want to be like Dorothy Day
Who gave it all away
To show us that feeding the poor
Is the greatest sign of wisdom
And looking after widows and orphans
Is the highest calling of heaven.
I want to be like Simone Weil
Whose compassion and empathy
Plunged her into poverty
Choosing sacrifice and suffering
To the world she was nothing
But to God she was the sacred offering.
I want the faithfulness of Harriet Jacobs
Who was 7 years in the belly of the beast
She was our modern day Jonah
Patiently waiting her release
In telling her own story She became the flame
Reigning down fire on death’s chains
Holding millions in guilt and shame
What a beacon she became
Building a school from her pain
The eternal light they could not tame
Rising to heaven praising God’s name.
Are we not one and one not we
Brothers and sisters united in love Growing the fruit of peace
Being awakened by the Dove
Walking the Way
Waiting for Divine power
Married to creature and to creation
Living in this eleventh hour
Being good and faithful to Truth
Sacrificing all for the Life
Experiencing the gift of each other
Working to end our world’s strife
Encouraging our neighbor
Bringing these witnesses with us
Remembering their blood, sweat and tears
In stories, songs and poem
Lightning our lamps in the darkness
Following Love all the way home.
DeeAnn Dean 