I saw a mural of a valiant warrior
His portrait drawn 30 years ago today
The vibrant colors
Juxtaposed his broad shoulders
Looking straight at us
I wondered, what were his eyes trying to say?
My mom, dad, brother and sisters and I stared
As the majestic painting of this mighty man glared,
The sun was bright, the summer breeze felt silky smooth
I could feel the wind as my freshly braided tresses flew
’Dad, who is this mighty man?’
Have you heard of him? I asked.
The silence of his long pause, intrigued my teen aged innocence.
‘He was more than a mighty man’
My dad sternly replied.
‘He was a mighty soul
He fought for freedom!
No injustice on earth could thwart who he was meant to be.
He was born a black boy, just like you and me.
And yet he lived 80 full years of life, fighting for what was right
He died, valiantly...
So that the future generation would remember him
Just as you’ve perceived him to be
Just like you are meant to be, Son
A Mighty Man, A Mighty Soul, indeed!’