Academic journal article Chicago Review

Grace of God

Academic journal article Chicago Review

Grace of God

Article excerpt

In the sluggish sleep of slaves From your cradles to your graves You live unaware of your great power and where it's gotten from But the minute you awake This whole Planet Earth will shake To your rhythmic cosmic drum  Everything in all Creation Has its own distinct vibration That keeps moving to a universal measure we call time As these movements then repeat It's their time to which they beat For time is the force sublime  Any life that ever lived Came in time wrapped as a gift To be either used up well or else allowed to go to waste None knows how long time will last But we all know once it's passed Time can never be replaced  Any present time provides Time itself also divides Into regulated segments Seconds, minutes, hours, days Into weeks, months, seasons, years To which every age appears Each in its decided space  So, as nature runs its course Time has been its moving force And although some time may seem to lag While other time has leapt As it's moved along its way No time has been made to stay Just its rhythm has been kept  Now a rhythm seems to last Like a shadow time has cast Like the visible remains of some invisible event The more any rhythm swings The more energy it brings The more power it represents  Of course people who can call Upon rhythm best of all Are you relatives of Africa where human life began No one else of any race Has the necessary grace To keep time the way you can  Time that you translate to dance Into music to entrance And engage the human spirit in activity so fine That you shouldn't find it odd If it's called the Grace of God For indeed it is divine  To take time and make it swing Is so valuable a thing It cannot be bought nor sold for any specified amount Call it destiny or fate It's your gift at any rate Which you suffer to discount  You still hear the old echo Of a time you won't let go When black bodies, minds and souls were being held by whips and chains But the chains have gone to rust And the whips have turned to dust Just their memory remains  Like a nightmare you might dream With a foul, recurring theme That will vanish into nothing once you waken from your sleep Then as you enjoy your gift Every heart will get a lift From the moving time you keep  You whom God has graced to swing Must "lift every voice and sing" Sending images to satellites from which they will rebound To paint entertaining scenes Upon television screens For all people, world around  With the Grace of God you've got You need never fire a shot To create a mighty force too powerful to be withstood It's your legacy at birth To be used for all it's worth And provide for your own good 
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