RESTORATION SONG (FOR MATTHEW)

By Rev. Willie J. Naylor

In visions of the night,

I see my sons,

Standing like trees in a valley.

As the autumn winds

Whirl around me.

I long to hasten and embrace them…

I see my sons,

Casting shadows upon the earth

That dance like urban phantoms,

Sounds of angry gunshots

And the scent of sulfur

Give voice to the language of madness.

The Harvest Moon

Illuminates the falling leaves

Falling in silent surrender.

…falling like forsaken dreams

in smoked filled crack dens;

where listless souls thirst for water of life

…falling like the hopes of Angels

from a generation disposed,

who seek answers of wisdom

from their broken fathers.

…Falling like the footsteps

of a little girl awakened at midnight by nightmares

who peers out a tenement apartment window

and prays: “God let daddy find his way home.”

…Falling like tears of sorrow

from a mother’s eyes

as she surrenders her son to the hungry grave

a vibrant tree cut down before his time.

Forgive Me My Sons,

Allow me to repent:

As I free my limbs from the entanglement

Of an era of decadence…

Forgive Me My Sons,

Let us grow beyond pain:

And renew your desire for living

Receive your restoration and healing…

Draw nourishment from wellsprings of joy

And drink from the fountain of life

Let your roots cling to the heart of the Earth

…Forgive Me, My Sons

Forgive me, My Sons

I must find my way out

To the path which leads towards tomorrow.

Then I hear the voice of love whisper

“Take another look”…

As the Sun ascends above the horizon…

…Life calls unto me

and I shall answer her…

as the morning dew glistens,

upon leaves of taupe, gold, yellow and red

I See My Sons;

My Sons are standing

Like trees with determined glory…

Stretching forth their branches

Like the arms of Holy Men,

Committed to praise the God of the Dawn

I say in my Heart there will be another Harvest,

…Reconciliation shall sow her seeds;

…Restoration shall be her fruits…

I hear the melodies of My Father’s songs,

Drifting through the crisp morning air,

Men made strong and wise

Who survived the transformation of the night.