Neither Black Nor White

What colour, does one think a soul,
its fire our lives do need;
purpose of it questionable,
perhaps flesh, is shell for it's seed;
determines in scope our natures',
upon it human bodies feed;
wisdom, bleeds to each through it;
for most, its heaven's mead.

Question raised, brings one to pause,
soul is colourless of course;
everyone who thinks different,
is head deep, up the rear of a horse;
concerning constants crudely plied,
through media pundits source;
soul's diss, it's colourless,
tween blacks vs. whites, its overly coarse.

Mind's blindness, caused by obscurities,
defeating common thought;
weakness spread continually,
through edict, racial bias taught;
life's short ride is cheapened,
humane relationships are fraught;
ruin made by idea insane,
wake up, all souls are heaven wrought!

Clay and water is body physical,
skin tone is providence blessed;
source of living, heaven's manna,
each feeds from Father's breast;
antecedent is identified,
you, are of earth, and Africa is your crest;
marker, flesh makes no one special,
souls roost in the same nest!

Colours purpose is to shower,
eyes view from heaven's throne;
provide us as flowers,
remember, from his hand all seed is sown;
beautifying day's horizon,
for ‘Him' as child's knowledge is known;
distinction, all a separate shade,
for thought less we must atone.

by Michael Walkerjohn

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