Your beauty was not merely heaven's tears
wrenched from that anguish
you could not flee
The soil that found your tears
took the life you gave
and returned it to the seeds it sheltered
The seeds rose, striving to become
Your beauty was not merely that sadness inescapable
For as the morning mist rising to the sun
Your tears rose
Striving to touch
Striving to teach
Striving to become
Lifting to places yet unknown
-decicated to MLK
1997
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