In the green month when resurrected flowers
Like laughing children ignorant of death,
Brighten the couch of those who wake no more,
Love and remembrance blossom in our hearts,
For you who bore the extreme sharp pang for us,
And bought our freedom with your lives.
Honoring your memory, with love we bring
These fiery roses, white-hot cotton flowers
And violets bluer than cool northern skies
You dreamed of stooped in burning prison fields
When liberty was only a faint north star,
Not a bright flower planted by your hands
Reaching up hardy nourished with your blood.
Fit gravefellows you are for Douglass, Brown,
Turner and Truth and Tubman. . . .whose rapt eyes
Fashioned a new world in this wilderness.
American earth is richer for your bones;
Our hearts prouder for the blood we inherit.
This gripping poem is from the pen of Detroiter Dudley Randall, writer and founder of Broadside Press, written for Memorial Day but stumbled upon today here. Couldn't wait 10 months til 2010 to put it online, for it's applicable every day any way.