An Underground Railroad

I

 

I dug a hole

and spoke a word

into that opened

ground. Planted it

that it may grow -

and upward make

it’s way - upward

toward the light

- that planted

word. To the

light.

That word, that

first word, was

FREEDOM. 

And, I

planted it again

and again from

our cellar door

down along the

deer-trod path

to the river;

that mighty river.

Ending at the

banks, ending at the

place the ferry

jostled up and

down on the surface

of that mighty river;

on the surface

of our Susquehanna.

 

II

Others planted words - 

their first words - adjoining 

passages from their own

homes to ours.  Slowly 

moving North.  To a 

promised land of liberty;

a home of opportunity, 

where free-men, and

free-women, and

free-children flourish

and abound - ALL.

The words they planted

rang much the way did 

mine; clear and heavy in 

the air, lush and noble on 

the lips.  Whispered in the 

ear as fare for the 

transport given over the

invisible lines of hate, and

trackless features of the 

seething fear of what men 

did not understand - nor care 

to repair - in the center of

their hearts consumed with

the greed of more and mine.

III 

Words like HOPE, TRUTH,

BELOVED COMMUNITY, 

SHELTER, PASSAGE, HARBOR,

and LIGHT tumbled off

whispering lips on breathy

warmth into frightened

ears, behind hands to 

hide the movement of

what was spoken.  

Words planted in holes from 

their homes to ours, soon to be

saplings and then to be trees,

winding over knolls and

pushing on through valleys.

IV

A track of steel made up of

words respired on human 

breath a railroad to freedom

whispered in soft, hush tones.  

Across our land and in the hearts 

of all our bettered souls; the angels 

of our natured selves let linger on 

their lips:  FREEDOM.  HOPE. 

TRUTH. BELOVED COMMUNITY.

SHELTER. PASSAGE. HARBOR. 

LIGHT.  Freedom.  Freedom,

yet again. Words once whispered

in the ear, gave passage t’endless

ride; upon the railroad unground

with safe abode inside.  A slant

aperture of humble folk kept this

all just beyond the pall, but mumbled 

were the same rich peals of freedom, 

freedom all.