“The fact that we are black <br />is our ultimate reality.” <br />—Ron Karenga <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />And several strengths from drowsiness campaigned <br />but spoke in Single Sermon on the warpland. <br /> <br />And went about the warpland saying No. <br />“My people, black and black, revile the River. <br />Say that the River turns, and turn the River. <br /> <br />Say that our Something in doublepod contains <br />sees for the coming hell and health together. <br />Prepare to meet <br />(sisters, brothers) the brash and terrible weather; <br />the pains; <br />the bruising; the collapse of bestials, idols. <br />But then oh then!—the stuffing of the hulls! <br />the seasoning of the perilousl sweet! <br />the health! The heralding of the clear obscure! <br /> <br />Build now your Church, my brothers, sisters. Build <br />never with brick or Corten nor with granite. <br />Build with lithe love. With love like lion-eyes. <br />with love like morningrise. <br />with love like black, our black— <br />luminously indiscreet; <br />complete; continuous.”<br /><br />Gwendolyn Brooks<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-sermon-on-the-warpland/
