MLK- THE other frightens us,
because
its us, extended beyond but re
turning.
It was Freud who said
‘The repressed returns’.
I stood there some years ago at the site
where to many you spoke.
Feeding the multitude with words, to
expand your dream, into society.
Like Moses- same journey.
For those who listened on that
Washington shoreline.
A boat called Beatitude.
The river, just kept rolling,
A boatman- MLK.
Your roots, generations,
skin color, Melchior? – Balshazzar? -Gaspar?
Gold for the King.
From the dream came beauty, hope, freedom.
Frankincense your word, myrrh for later.
MLK- a beautiful race, and dream.
We are afraid of beauty.
Incense of God.
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