Yesterday, the news reports of the lynching of George Floyd filled my newsfeed and my head and heart. I longed for words to cry out, to demand justice, to scream STOP! NO MORE! I wanted words to proclaim that we cannot continue to allow this brutality to happen to our Black brothers and sisters. No one should live in this kind of trauma. No one should live in this kind of fear.
Later in the evening some words came to my heart in the shape of a poem. This morning there are other words forming on the edges of my soul–words that are calling me to look deeply into myself, words that are calling me to examination and confession. The emerging words are reminding me that other words will come and when they do, they will be sacred and I will not be able to hold them back.
But yesterday the words would not come. I felt that there were no words that were sacred enough at that moment for me to proclaim. Then, in the afternoon, I went to a local outdoor labyrinth to walk and pray and wonder why no words felt sacred. I needed to quiet myself. I needed to listen. I needed to empty myself of all the ideas and notions that I secretly hold on to–that I have something important to say, when I know that my race, my ancestors, even myself probably, have compounded the reality where we are today, where Black lives are in danger. Lives of other colors too. In that time walking the labyrinth, I realized that I needed to wait and listen, so that my words would not trample on someone else’s sacred ground.
I know that my life experience prevents me from ever really understanding what it means to live under the blanket of trauma that racism inflicts upon so many of my brothers and sisters, but I do know that as someone who finds compelling the prophetic words recorded in Isaiah, that became the Gospel words of Jesus and the path of my life following Emmanuel–Jesus, God With Us–there is work for me to do, much work for all of us to do, until those who live under oppression are free.
“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because he has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives
and recovery of sight to the blind,
to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” (Luke 4:18-19)
I hope that the words of my poem will speak to your heart.
Peace,
Alicia

I Walked A Labyrinth
Today
I walked a labyrinth
Moving in and out
Back and forth
The faded brick path
Cool and rough beneath my feet
The sky above
Sparkled deep blue
With an intensity of strength
Meant for all people
Especially those
Who this night
Grieve again
Crying out in anguish
“Do something!”
I was surrounded by colors
So brilliant
So vibrant
Shouting a message
For me to hear
A Harmony of hues
Painting a canvas
For me to notice
The shades of diversity
So beautiful
That if they were diminished
In any way
The world would tilt
Unbalanced
And life itself would fall away
In the middle
Of the pathway of prayer
I stood in silence
Because today it seems
I have no words
For when I opened my mouth
The only sound that came forth
Was a deep groan
Barely audible
Heard only by the wind
That carried it away and
Gave sound to two simple words
NO MORE
Today
I walked a labyrinth
In silence and
Tonight I pray
That tomorrow the words
Will form in my soul
Shaping both sounds of outcry and
Syllables of love
To protest evil
To conquer fear
To establish justice
To bring forth hope

Photo by: CAR, 27 May 2020