UARTKNOWN

A Year of Jubilee

 You do not know me

As I write this, you don't know if I'm black or white or brown

You don't know my sexual orientation

You don't know my religious beliefs

You don't know my cause

You do not know me

You don't know how I was educated

You don't know if I have fired a gun

You don't know if I have stolen and run

You don't know if I lie like the wind

or am honest as sin

You do not know me

I don't know you

As you read this, I don't know if you are black or white or brown

I don't know if you have lived the mean streets or up on easy street

If you grew up poor like me or had plenty to eat

If by the hand that rocked the cradle you were regularly loved or beat

I don't know what ghosts may lurk and haunt your broken rooms

I don't know you

Yes, I don’t know you and you don’t know me, but what a glorious place to be

For here we are, as easy as can be

I have never wronged you and you have never wronged me

But in the dimness of the great unknown our thoughts may be tempted to flee

to the customary indulgences stereotyped upon my race and upon your creed

Are we tempted to repeat the mistakes our ancestors made long ago?

Shall we bring judgement before a person is present in flesh and bone?

We won't look each other in the eye

We don’t walk together stride for stride

We won’t eat at table and share our hopes out loud

We don’t give each other the benefit of doubt

You see, I think I know you and you think you know me, but what a horrible place to be

For here we are, as screwed up as can be

I have wronged you and you have wronged me, without ever having shared congenial verbosity

This will never make any man truly free

Perhaps it's time to re-visit civil history

For scores of seven years ago, were not both set free?

One from slavery, but both from the oppression of legislated tyranny

One bound by chains, though both were bound by fear

that his people would revile him if the other was held dear

Though freed men lifted hands on high, accepting hearts were slow to come round

And good ol’ ebenezer was nowhere to be found

Abe had done his work across our nation’s blood-stained land

Though his noble effort could not change the imprinted heart of either man

And then came the day of victorious song

Slowly, one by one, we sang in tune with Abraham, Martin and John

This is our time, for me to know you and you to know me, unoppressed

It is time for you and I to enter into that brotherhood of rest

Let us melt with fire our rancorous swords and plow shares well they may be

And we'll plow the expectant land together and celebrate a year of Jubilee!

U.Art.Known