When Pen Replaceth Plow




W H E N   P E N    R E P L A C E T H    P L O W


My grandpa was a farmer
he grew great fields of wheat
tended by the strong black backs of men
these of which he beat

my uncle was a businessman
of high and noble standing
and in his closet hung a white klan suit
of Great Grand Dragon branding

Now these men you see
they are my family
their sins I now atone
with pen and paper black board and chalk
I uproot what they have sewn

These children their fathers picked the fields
and now they fill my class
I wonder if the tasks I give them
will be something that lasts

I am a simple teacher
I work with books and pens
and serve those that were oppressed
by flesh of these same hands

Can some one here please show me
can someone tell me how
the master becometh a servant
The pen replaceth plow

I cannot alone undo
what generations before have done
I cannot undo the ugliness
a father imparts to his son

I am my fathers’ daughter
their flesh is what I am
but a master of minions is not my heart
its not for what I stand

My grandpa was a farmer
he grew great fields of wheat
but today Iive in the city
my harvest, it comes from the street

And so this day I survey them
bright minds with eager eyes
and plan another day from them
while I watch the sun arise

with hopes that as this day is ended
and the children seek their homes
that I have accomplished something different
I pray I am not alone.


12-15-99 mbl





About hollerscholar

I'm a theology & philosophy student, writer, web developer, and medical laboratory professional.
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